Fabulous In TARDIS Blue
by funkyorange
Summary: MaeEmma started this. Basically, Kurt takes Amy's place and guess who takes Rory's? Blaine. MaeEmma did the first four chapters. Please read, I'll pass all reviews on to MaeEmma.
1. Eleventh hour part one MaeEmma's

"Dear Santa," Kurt whispered in the silence of the room he sat alone in, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneeled down, his hands together on top of his bed. He saw people do that in church that one time when he went to Mommy's funeral. "Thank you for the Power Ranger dolls. But Daddy says to calls them action figures… he wasn't very happy with Aunt Mildred when she called them dolls. Can I call them dolls? Aunt Mildred says you play wedding with dolls, so doesn't that make my Power Rangers dolls?" He wondered, tilting his head as he thought about it. "Action figures sounds funny, I like dolls better." He decided.

"I know Easter's next month, and I don't mean to wake you. But it's very, _very _important, Santa."

Kurt brushed a lock of brown hair from his forehead where it tickled his fair skin. He squeezed his eyes tighter, not opening them even though they were starting to hurt now. In church, everybody closed their eyes. Kurt really wanted Santa Claus to hear him, so he had to make sure everything would work.

"Santa, I know Christmas already passed, but can I have one more thing? Only one thing. I won't be greedy." Kurt promised.

He glanced behind him at the pale green walls, a lamp ominously illuminating the thin crack behind him. He felt a shiver the space heater on the other side of the room couldn't prevent no matter how close Kurt inched to it. Only moments after his glare was locked on the long crack, he remembered his eyes were supposed to be closed, and he shut them back up tightly.

"It's the crack in my wall, Santa." He whimpered the fear in his voice excruciating.  
>"It's scary. I want it to just go away. It's giving me bad dreams. It makes funny noises, too; it talks to me all night. Daddy says he'll get some stuff soon and cover it up, but it's taking him <em>so <em>long. He said not to be scared of it; it's just a silly old crack. But it's not, I know. Maybe… maybe you could send someone to fix it so I don't have to wait for next Christmas? Like a fireman? Or a police-"

His shaky voice was interrupted by a loud crash outside, and a funny sound that was almost like when you spin a stick around really fast and it makes a whizzing noise, but louder. He didn't hesitate to open his eyes this time, and he ran to his window, standing on the tips of his toes to see out the high window of his basement bedroom, his fingers clasped tightly on the edge of the shelf beneath it.

Something outside, a big blue lump, had crashed into the tree outside, the one with the tree house on top, now in pieces. He didn't panic, though: he never even used that tree house his daddy made with him last year. It was cramped and every time he touched it, he got splinters, even through his Mommy's old thick, leather gloves. Even when he'd had helped his father build it (mostly by force) he'd spent most of the time playing with crayons across the yard and occasionally plotting out the 'interior design.'

But, even if Kurt didn't care the slightest bit about the loss of the tree house, the car was a little nerve-racking. Kurt saw silly people drive into telephone poles on the television all the time. Daddy called them drunk, but really, they just looked confused and happy. After Mommy disappeared, Daddy got silly a lot. He didn't drive into any telephone poles, but he swore at the racing cars on TV and let Kurt stay up really, really late and eat all the Popsicles he wanted.

The tree didn't fall, and in fact, from Kurt's perspective (unreliable, probably, being it was blocked by the sunflowers planted outside his window), the tree itself looked unharmed. Only the tree house and the flimsy branches surrounding it were damaged- almost like the thing had come out of the sky. Maybe the big blue lump was really an airplane.

Kurt dragged a chair over from his desk, putting it under the window so he could stand on it and get a better look. Kurt had completely forgotten about Santa and his new Power Rangers, his mind distracted with the curiosity of the situation.

But you know what they say- curiosity killed the cat.

Kurt felt the tiny wooden chair protest against his dainty seventy pounds, one of the legs wobble under the weight that was mostly his heavy Spiderman flannel pajamas and thick layers of Dove conditioner in his brown hair. He could see out the window much better now, but the glass was still foggy with frost and in a tiny, single inch of dusty snow over the remains of dying sunflowers that had been lying there ever since the dawn of winter months and months ago.

He pulled the window open, biting his soft lip in determination. The old window squealed with complaint, but Kurt budged it open, a draft of cold air and a handful of dirt welcoming itself inside Kurt's room. He frowned at the icy rocks that fell on his floor, but as much as he despised the contrast of dirty brown on almost-sterilized-looking bright white, there were more important matters at hand. He shoved his tiny head out the window first and shimmied out the slim window, using the shelf he'd effectively removed of Beanie Babies as support, until he was sitting on the dull, dead sunflowers, brushing dirt of his shoulders, and buttoning the top three buttons of his pajamas to help warm himself from the significantly colder temperature outside then in his room. He startled a bit when the old window slammed itself shut, making a loud band and adding to Kurt's shivers.

His eyes wandered the bright stars, seeing not a cloud in the night sky. He smiled. He liked these kinds of nights, beautiful, clear, and pleasantly brisk. Even though he had goose bumps all over his bare arms, he enjoyed the midnight breeze and the dimly lit landscape, hideously, wonderfully ominous and refreshing. But he reminded himself of the reason he wasn't under his cozy blankets, and found himself running towards the big blue box with plumes of smoke emitting from it.

Kurt's bare feet felt numb with cold under the melting snow as he ran across the front yard, and leaves and branches from last fall dug into his soft, baby-fresh skin. He wished he'd worn sneakers- slippers, socks, _anything- _as he winced at the little stems that felt like push-pins on his unprotected feet_. _With a short glimpse at his feet, he noticed their bright pink complexion and memories of frost bite whizzed around his head. More memories of stepping of bugs and having icky bug guts all over his bare skin in the summer, but frost bite, too.

He neared the large blue box, noting this thing was obviously not a car. It lacked wheels and even the shape to define it as a car. Maybe it _did _fall from the sky.

Wood was scattered all about the blue rectangle on its side, and the tree house above Kurt's head was barely any longer recognizable as a tree house. Kurt walked in a small circle around the thing, his hands behind his back as he inspected the mysterious box. He noticed the words "Police Box" on the top of the thing, (he was always extraordinarily skilled with reading,), lit up with a yellow light that illuminated the clouds of smoke about it. He jumped back as the thing opened, feeling like he'd done something horribly wrong to disrupt it as smoke plumed up from the now open doors on the roof of the box.

Kurt felt his heart thump in his chest like it was trying to escape as a rope flew out, latching onto a tree branch next to Kurt's on foot. Was there a monster in there? Was it trying to get him?

Daddy said the movie he'd watched about aliens last week was make-believe. But this didn't feel much like make-believe anymore.

Kurt held his breath, his eyes widening to the point they were at risk of falling out of his sockets. He stepped backwards, tripping on a piece of debris from the tree house when he saw a hand come out, clutching the side of the box. He fell on his back, arms flailing. Rocks dug into his back and he felt like crying in fear. He didn't want the thing inside that box to get him. He was only having a nightmare though, another one from that silly crack in the wall that didn't exist, right? Right?

Well, why couldn't he wake up when he frantically pinched the skin on his wrist? How come he only winced and the box didn't vanish as his eyes fluttered open and he stared at his bedroom ceiling with the glow-in-the-dark stars?

Kurt couldn't take his eyes off that hand clasping the edge of the box, and felt his unsteady breath hitch when another hand joined it, probably of the same body, and then- a face.

Kurt stated at the man in front of him, feeling like vomiting over his own pajamas. His insides knotted, but were released when the man gave an innocent smile, shouting in the silent night, "Can I have an apple?"

Kurt stared at the man blankly as he nodded to himself, his head excitedly bobbing up and down from the safety of his box, "All I can think about. Apples. I love apples."

The man looked ecstatic, his wet brown hair falling in front of his face as he looked up from the box at Kurt. "Maybe I'm having a craving! That's new… never had cravings before."

The man struggled as he picked himself up, climbing out of the box. He seemed extraordinarily excited, smiling as he stopping to sit on the narrow edge of the box, one leg still in. "Whoa! Look at that," He said, smirking as he looked down into the box, billowing clouds of smoke that must have been blocking his view of whatever was inside that little box.

"Are… you okay?" Kurt mumbled, still sitting on the ground. He wasn't quite sure what he was asking. He meant for it to be about the box crashing, bringing down his tree house with it, but a lot of it was asking about his sanity.

"Just had a fall," He explained, still giddy as he climbed out of the box, sitting on the side now with both legs out. "All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of climb back up."

"You're- you're soaking wet." Kurt observed. The man was drenched, his hair wet and his blue shirt stretched from the water it was containing.

"I was in the swimming pool." He clarified.

"You said… you said you were in the library." Kurt noted, not taking his shaky eyes of the mysterious man. He was extremely confused: how was the man at the library or the swimming pool if he was in a claustrophobia-inducing police box?

"So is the swimming pool." He explained as this was all very obvious. Kurt bit his tongue, not wanting to say anything because he knew he wouldn't get a very good answer. He was dreaming, anyway. Dreams didn't make sense.

"Are you a police man?" Kurt wondered aloud, remembering his wish to Santa.

"Why?" He asked, leaning in on Kurt, still sitting on the edge of the box. "Did you call a police man?" Kurt noticed his heavy British accent. No one he'd ever met before in Ohio had a British accent; he only knew what it sounded like from the television. Maybe this man wasn't from Ohio. Maybe he was from the North Pole… did they have British accents in the North Pole? Kurt knew they did in one movie.

"Did you come about the crack in my wall? Did Santa send you?" Kurt asked, getting a little eager. He stood up, brushing the dirt of his back, feeling much more comfortable around the man now that he knew he must be here to help him and get rid of the scary crack in his wall.

"What cra-" He started. He'd jumped off the side of the box, miserably failing as he rolled about on the ground, his head smashing into a small rock. He had worse balance then Kurt's father, and that was surely saying something. He didn't know if he wanted someone this dizzy fixing his room.

"You alright, Mister?" Kurt asked, tilting his head in concern.

"Fine," He declared, sitting back up as he waved his arm around, sounding like he was very much in pain as his breath was almost stuck inside his chest. "I'm okay, this is all perfectly nor-" He began before stopping midsentence, clutching his stomach. He coughed, and out came a golden, sparkly dust that made it look like he'd been drinking craft glitter.

"Who are you?" Kurt whispered, stepping back. Why was this man so hurt? Why was he coughing glitter and why did he seem so okay with it? Kurt's eyes darted back to the house, wondering if he should run back in and lock the door.

The man's hands sparkled a bit, almost lighting up. He looked up at Kurt from where he kneeled on the ground, looking a bit fascinated. "I don't know yet. I'm still cooking."

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he looked hard at the man, like if he tried hard enough, he could see right through him and know all about him. "Does it scare you?" The man asked.

"No…" Kurt mumbled, lying as he stared at the man, his glittery breath slowly diminishing into the air. "It just looks a little… weird."

"Oh, no, no, no," He said, smiling, "The crack in your wall, does it scare you?"

"Uh," Kurt said, looking at his shoes, nodding, "Yes."

Kurt was prepared to continue, but the man jumped up, looking elated while Kurt backed up, "Well then! No time to lose, I'm The Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask any stupid questions, and don't wander off." He instructed, looking as giddy as can be as he shot directions gently at the innocent, small boy in the Spiderman pajamas, a good two feet smaller than him. Kurt nodded, swallowing, feeling a bit intimidated by the smiling man. He walked away from Kurt, looking rather confident as he ran himself right into the tree head-on, falling onto his back.

"Mister!" Kurt shouted, his feet staying put so he was still a good few feet away from the man now lying at the ground, blinking confusedly at the stars. "You alright?"

"Early days." He explained, "Steering is a bit off."

"Oh." Kurt mumbled as though he completely understood which was far from the case.

"Okay," The man said, jumping back up like he hadn't learned his lesson the first time he'd gotten up to fast. He clapped his hands together, grinning, "Shall we see this crack?"

Kurt nodded, bobbing a head a bit too fast to be healthy. He squeezed his hands into nervous fists by his sides, leading the man into the house. Kurt looked behind him a few times, watching the man behind him who seemed to be smiling, following obediently, not seeming to terrify at following the little boy even after the strict directions he'd tossed at Kurt. The man didn't fall again, but Kurt, after looking behind him so much, stumbled over a tree root at fell, catching himself with his palms.

Kurt winced, and the man was quick to stand behind him, pulling him up by armpits from behind. Kurt spun around, looking at the man with the same wide green eyes as before. "Are we okay? That was a bit of a fall." He said.

Kurt held out his palms in front of the man, and they spoke better then Kurt could. The man examined Kurt's hands, flipping each one over a few times. Kurt seemed rather distressed with the tiny cuts on his hands, dirty and tinged brown. The night was well illuminated by the moon and the stars, so Kurt's cuts were easier to see then not, but the man seemed to see deeper into Kurt's hand, like they were more than just tiny, pale baby hands with a pathetic scratch.

The man ran a finger over Kurt's palm, and Kurt pulled his hands back. He was particularly confused, the reality of the situation catching up with him. He didn't even know this strange man who seemed so fascinated with Kurt's delicate hands he'd drowned in vanilla-scented lotion. Of course, he was here to fix the crack in his wall, so Kurt should just let him do his job, really.

Kurt ran to the door once the man had released his hands Kurt had willingly given him himself. Kurt had no one to blame but himself if this man was scaring him; he was the one who told Santa to send someone.

Kurt scurried around the door, pulling the key out from where his Daddy left it under the mat. The man followed, not racing to catch up with Kurt after he ran away. Kurt grumbled, jamming the key into the lock until it opened.

The door flew open, slamming into a wall and shaking a glass vase against the wall. Kurt winced at the noise, and looked back behind him for the man.

When he turned around, the man was only two inches in front of Kurt's face, smiling. Kurt jumped back, his breath lost, while the man smiled, "What about that apple?"

Kurt obeyed, walking into the huge kitchen in his house the front door let in. "If you're a doctor," Kurt whispered hesitantly as he grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the high counter he had to use his tippy-toes to get, "Why did your box say police?"

The man considered this, taking the apple out of Kurt's hands as he turned around. He took a large bite, chewed for only a second, and spat on the white mush all over the shiny tile floor. Kurt gasped at the man's horrific manners he'd been taught to stray away from since he could crawl and had gladly accepted.

Kurt watched the tiny puddle of white apple mush on the floor like it might get up and walk away. "That's disgusting. What is that?"

Kurt looked up at the man. "An apple?" He said like he was answering a trick question.

"Apples are rubbish. I hate apples." He complained, handing the bitten apple to Kurt, who still had dirty hands as he was yet to run under a faucet.

"But you said you loved them." Kurt argued, putting a defensive hand on his hip.

"No, no, no. I like yoghurt. Yoghurt's my favorite, give me yoghurt." He said.

"Okay…" Kurt agreed, a bit confused again, but a tad more frustrated with his manners and his demands. He scurried to the fridge, finding one foot impossibly hard not to tangle with the other and fall flat on his face.

He opened the fridge, peering in until he found a snack serving of vanilla yoghurt, grabbing it out of the back of the fridge with determination. He glanced back at the man, whose eyes where surveying the kitchen, rocking back and forth on his heels impatiently.

Kurt handed the man the yoghurt, and he grabbed the thing, ripping the top off and drinking the yoghurt like it was juice. Kurt looked a bit repulsed by the lack of silverware in this process, which he would have been happy to give him if he'd given him another second.

Kurt didn't even have a chance to consider him satisfied before he spat the yogurt across the kitchen. Kurt cringed at the mess, but the man seemed rather oblivious to it.

"I hate yogurt, it's just stuff, with bits in it." He complained, yoghurt dripping down his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve, and Kurt had never seen anyone with such intimidatingly terrible manners after possibly his father.

"You said it was your favorite." Kurt protested, his eyes darting between the mess and the man, wondering which one he should attend to first. This man was being rather rude, and had too many conflicting decisions to be kept up with.

"New mouth. New rules." He explained. "It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything taste wron-" He cut himself off, shouting as his body went into a spasm. Kurt stepped back, his back colliding with a chair at the table. His eyebrows melded together in concern. He wasn't quite as afraid, anymore. This man just seemed a bit grumpy and a little confused and maybe just more different then Kurt, somehow. He said he had a new mouth. Kurt couldn't grow a new mouth, but this man could. But shaking like you were a cartoon character that gets electrocuted was a bit odd, a little scary. But bearable. Because Daddy told him being different was important. And even Kurt was different than the other boys at school, who liked Spiderman pajamas and didn't have to be forced into them by their father.

The man stopped after a moment, grabbing his forehead and waddling around, trying to find balance. "What's the matter? What's- what's wrong with you?" Kurt mumbled. Maybe he was sick. But he was a doctor, why couldn't he just fix himself?

The man looked at Kurt with narrowed eyes, speaking to fast for it to come off as intimidating, "Wrong with me? It's not my fault, why can't you get me any decent food? Your American, fry something."

Kurt raised a questioning eyebrow, wandering off to the stove. He sucked in a breath, trying to forget he was never allowed to use the stove, and turned the burner on. He wasn't quite sure how to use it, so he just spun the dial so the electric burners looked bright red and hot.

He went in the fridge, and the first cookable thing that caught his eye was his father's never-ending stash of bacon behind the orange juice. Kurt grabbed a pack, ripping the plastic open and throwing a few on the pan left on the burner from last night's dinner. He pushed them around with a fork like he saw Daddy do on Saturday mornings for Kurt.

The man snagged a dish towel of the counter next to Kurt, causing him to spin around at the sudden movement. The man smiled, and Kurt dismissed it, looking back to his bacon. He ruffled his hair with the dish towel to dry it, looking rather excited.

"Bacon," He exclaimed, pulling out a seat on the table and plopping in it. Kurt left the bacon cooking while he got the man a fancy plate and silverware. He'd played kitchen before with Daddy, so he knew how to serve him. He set down the plate in front of the man, and Kurt smiled for the first time tonight, standing straight and tall while he announced like the waiters in a real restaurant, "Your order will be right up."

Kurt wished he had an apron to put around his Spiderman pajamas so it would look even more real. Kurt was absolutely elated: he barely ever got to play kitchen with Daddy anymore, and when he did, Daddy would never let him use the real stove, only the plastic, fake one in the basement and Daddy would have to pretend to eat the plastic ice cream, making unrealistic 'nom, nom, nom' noises.

Kurt picked up each piece of bacon into his hand with a huge oven mitt over it, and dumped it on the man's fancy blue plate.

He ate, smiling for a moment as he chewed, and Kurt giggled a bit, like he'd finally done it, like he'd made the best food in the _whole _world, so he had to love it.

That only lasted a moment before he opened his mouth, gagging at the chewed up bacon inside his mouth. Kurt's smile fell, but he knew that it was bound to happen deep down. He spat it onto the plate, looking at Kurt from where he had sat himself on the opposite side of the table, "Bacon. That's bacon. Are you trying to poison me?"

Kurt looked at him, just as questioning him in a similar way this man did to him. _He'd _asked for it. Gosh.

Kurt tried again, grabbing a can of beans out of the cupboard. He dumped them into the pan, stirring them around. The man leaned on the counter next to him, holding his chin up with a hand. "Ahh, you see? Beans." He said like they were only the best thing in the world.

Once again, the process was repeated, Kurt taking the pan and dumping the soupy substance onto the plate, where it almost overflowed. Kurt didn't dare smile yet.

He got up from his seat after only seconds, ran to the sink, leaned over and spat the mouthful of beans into the _clean_ sink. Kurt looked revolted, and the man looked up from the sink, muttering in Kurt's direction, "Beans are evil. Bad, _bad _beans."

Kurt took a simpler approach, grabbing a piece of bread and a container of butter, sitting down the opposite side of the man at the table, smearing butter all over the bread.

"Bread and butter. Now you're talking." He said, nodding.

Kurt slid the plate across the table, biting his fragile lip, waiting for the man's judgment he was coming to expect.

The man took a single bite of the innocent bread, and Kurt could barely even find the time to get out of the chair before the man had ran back to the door and flung the bread across the yard, shouting, "And stay out!"

Kurt frowned as the man came stomping back inside. He paced back and forth across the room, looking rather anxious for the circumstances. Kurt opened the fridge obediently.

"I've got carrots." Kurt offered, looking around the fridge.

"Carrots?" He shouted, stopping his pacing for a quick second. "Are you insane?"

Kurt looked back to the fridge, sighing, "Celery and peanut butter..?", before the man shouted, "No! Wait, I know what I need. I need…" The man pushed Kurt out of the way and started rummaging trough Kurt's freezer. There was _no _way this man was going to take his Popsicles, if that was his idea.

"I need… fish fingers and… custard." He said, holding the two things he'd grabbed out for Kurt to see. He closed the doors enthusiastically, dropping the two things on the counter.

"They're call fish sticks." Kurt corrected. "Fish _sticks, _not fingers. Fish don't have fingers."

The man looked at Kurt questioningly. "And who said fish don't have fingers?"

Kurt didn't object, watching the man grab a bowl out of the cupboard himself and dumping the entire bottle of custard into a big clear bowl, putting the entire box of fish sticks into the microwave, and paying no real attention to what he was doing, pushed four minutes like that sounded like a good time. Kurt watched silently as the man did so, and helped carry the big bowl of custard to the table while the man pulled the box of fish sticks out; cringing at the burning paper box that presumably burnt his fingers.

Kurt looked back at the freezer, an idea still stuck in his head, and while the man sat down at the table, Kurt pulled a grape Popsicle of the freezer and happily stuck it in his mouth.

They both sat favorably at opposite ends of the table, Kurt not even bothering to show his disgust towards the hideous snack he was watching this insane man consume. It was only when he picked up the bowl of custard and began to drink from it did Kurt raise an eyebrow. He put it down a moment afterwords, the glass bowl hitting the table with a 'thunk,' wiping away a yellow mustache with the back of his hand.

"Funny." Kurt said. He wasn't quite sure why. The entire situation was just as so, might as well throw the word out there, too.

"Why? Funny. Funny's good." He said like he was having an argument with himself. He trailed off, though, in a quick moment. "What's your name?"

"Delilah Bell." Kurt announced proudly, even though his father told him not to make things up.

"That's a brilliant name." He said, "_Delilah Bell,_" He sounded it out, stretching the word, "Sounds like a name from a fairy tale."

Kurt smiled. When he told his daddy that was his name, he had frowned and scolded him. He'd said that Delilah was a girls' name. He'd gotten almost angry with Kurt. But Kurt didn't want to be Kurt Hummel. Kurt Hummel was a dry, bland name, and it made him think of dead grass and his father's garage. Kurt didn't want to be dead grass and Daddy's garage. Sure, his Daddy was his was a lot like that, he always smelt like his cars and after Mommy died, he certainly resembled dead grass at times. But Kurt loved his Daddy, regardless, and wouldn't want Daddy any other way. But Kurt couldn't be like that. When people heard about Kurt Hummel, he wanted people to think of fairy tales and stage lights, and Kurt Hummel wasn't a fairy-tales-and-stage-lights kind of name. Delilah Bell was, and it would always be his preferred name. Maybe someday he could change his name, but Daddy might get mad.

"Are we in America, Delilah?" He asked, waving around a fish stick melting thick yellow custard.

"Yes." Kurt answered with a bit of an _of-course _tone to his voice. "Lima, Ohio, America. But I'm not going to be here long. Someday I'm going to be in New York. That's where Broadway is, did you know that?"

"So, what about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs?" He asked, eyeballing the ceiling. "I thought we would have woken them by now."

"I don't have a 'mum.'" Kurt whispered sorrowfully at the table, trying to mimicking the man's accent. "Just a daddy."

"I don't even have a dad." The man said, and he didn't look too disappointed about that.

"Wow…" Kurt whispered. No dad, no mom. At _all. _That would be _terrible. _

There was a moment of silence, or at least no talking. The room was filled with the echoes of the man's loud chomps on the fish stick. "So your dad, where's he?"

"He's asleep. He takes Nyquil to get rid of his headaches and usually doesn't get up till noon. He's a very deep sleeper, 'specially when he has Nyquil in him." Kurt mumbled, shoving the Popsicle in his cheeks.

"So you just wander about all night?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not _scared,_" Kurt protested, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as though the man was implying he was so. But after a moment he resumed sucking on the Popsicle and went back to being a baby again.

"Of course you're not! You're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of the box, and man eats fish custard." He said, gesturing at Kurt with his flimsy fish stick, biting off the end as he spoke with his mouth full, "And look at you. Just sitting there. Do you know what I think?"

"What?" Kurt asked, taking the Popsicle out of his mouth.

"Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."

Kurt pulled him down the stairs, his tiny hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. "It's down here. This is my room."

The man nodded. "Beautiful room, it is."

Kurt shook his head up and down fiercely. "I know. I picked the color myself."

They stood in the room, the open door to the stairs behind them. The walls were tall, pastel green that had been his favorite color two months ago when his father painted it. The bright white rug was spotless, all except for a bit of dirt across the room where Kurt's window was at. The room deeply contrasted between paper dress-up dolls, coloring books, thick fairy tales and action figures, plastic dinosaurs, and Batman sheets on his bed. Kurt was sort of elated he'd been around this man for so long, even showed him his room, and he hadn't snickered and called him a girl. All the boys at school did that, and once even his father's friend, who wasn't his father's friend much longer after that happened. But Kurt new even his dad thought Kurt was girly sometimes, that was why he gave him Spiderman pajamas and Batman sheets and play dinosaurs he didn't want. Kurt didn't understand why boys have to be boyish and girls have to be girlish- why can't everyone just be? Why do they have to be told what they are, why can't they just be what they are? But this strange man, he walked into Kurt's room and didn't call him girly, didn't call his boyish, just let him be Kurt- or better yet, Delilah Bell.

"This is it," Kurt announced, running to the wall and patting the space above a light blue dresser covered in various crayons and below a long crack in the wall. Kurt backed away; holding his hands behind his back and watching the man do his job.

He stroked the crack with a finger, "We got some cowboys in here."

Kurt gave him a funny look, tilting his head in curious confusion before the man turned to him. "Not actual cowboys. Though, that can happen."

"I used to hate apples." Kurt started; pulling a plump red apple from behind his back, figuring now would be the best time, if ever. "But my mommy put faces on them, and I like 'em a lot more now."

He walked forward, placing the apple in the man's hand, admiring his own work. While the man was still distracted with his fish 'fingers' and custard, Kurt had taken a plastic butter knife and cut out a delicate face on the last apple in the fridge. Of course, it was a bit too juicy to make a perfect art project, but aside from being terribly sticky, it had two beautiful big eyes and long mouth. Kurt beamed as the man tossed it in the air before shoving it into his big pocket and saying, "Sounds good, your mum. I'll keep it for later."

In all honesty, Kurt was a bit disappointed by his reaction. Maybe he just really didn't like apples. Or maybe he didn't like Kurt's face.

The man turned back to the crack, dismissing Kurt, who only stood back and let the man do his job once again. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it." The man observed. "So here's the thing- where's the draft coming from?"

Kurt stood still, deciding it was no time for him to interfere. He watched the man wave a little metal stick over the crack, lighting up blue at the end. Kurt couldn't help but wonder if it was a magic wand. If this man could sparkle and had a flying blue box, why couldn't he have a magic wand?

He read the wand, and whatever he was reading, Kurt could quite see. A tiny screen, maybe? "Blimey, you know what that crack is?"

"What?" Kurt asked. He felt like reminding the man his name was Delilah now, not _Blimey. _What kind of name was that?

"It's a _crack,_" The man said, all too dramatically to be taken seriously. Of _course _it was a crack!

Kurt looked back at this crazy crack, watching the man rush towards it and run his hand along it. It was almost glowing red-orange, like always. That crimson color scared Kurt, it wasn't meant for this room. No foreign, scary color like that belonged anywhere near Kurt's life.

"But I tell you something funny. If you knock this wall down, the crack will stay put because the crack isn't in the wall," He explained, stroking the crack with his pointer finger again, like he couldn't keep himself away.

"Where is it then?" Kurt muttered.

"Everywhere and everything. It's in the skin of the world, two parts of space and time that should never of touched, pressed together, right here, in the wall of your bedroom." He explained like this was some great phenomenon. It wasn't like Kurt found this normal, though. He was a bit shaken. It all sounded unreal. Sure, the most fantastical thing Kurt had ever witnessed was a typical show of Barney on Wednesday afternoon with a lime Popsicle, but the annoying little voice in the back of his head was telling him this was a crazy man in front of him, that what he was describing was impossible, and maybe that this crack was only normal and he was overreacting.

"Sometimes- can you hear-?" He started, pressing his ear to the crack.

"A voice? Yes." Kurt finished. He hated remembering it: sitting upright in his bed in the dark, trying to make out what the mysterious voice was saying while Batman stared at him through his sheets.

The man pressed the side of his face harder, struggling to make out the voice just like Kurt had at first. He gave up, though, and grabbed a glass cup off Kurt's nightstand, dumping the water out shamelessly on the floor.

He put the glass to the crack, putting his ear to that. "Prisoner Zero-" He began.

"-has escaped. Prisoner Zero had escaped. That's what I heard. What does it mean?" Kurt asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his fleece pants, trying to hide his fear.

"It means, that on the other side of this wall, there's a prisoner. And they've lost a prisoner. And you know what that means?" He said.

"What?" Kurt asked, breathless despite not moving an inch.

"You need a better wall." He stated obviously. Kurt jumped out of the way as the man picked up the pastel blue dresser and moved it aside, crayons rolling off the top and onto the floor.

"The only way to close it is to open it all the way. The forces will revert, and it will snap itself shut, or…" He said, stretching out the last word so it deserved a dramatic dot-dot-dot afterwords. Kurt could even see those dramatic and suspenseful dots looming invisibly in the air. He put down the dresser with a bit of a thud, crayons that hadn't already fallen jumping off.

" Or what?" Kurt insisted, growing annoyed with this man's suspense, even though the worry he was feeling was overthrowing annoyance like it nothing.

"You know when grown-ups tell you everything is going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?" He asked, looking at Kurt almost regretfully.

"Yes." Kurt whispered, like it was a forbidden topic to stray. Plus he was growing a bit to weary to make his voice very big.

"Everything is going to be fine."

The man stretched out a hand, and Kurt took it. He pointed his wand at the crack, the buzzing filling the silence in the room. Kurt stood behind him, allowing the man to separate Kurt and the crack he didn't want to be around him.

Kurt peered from behind the man's legs innocently, instantly regretting what he was seeing. He staggered back, not letting go of the man's hand as the wall opened up like a mouth, lighting up all too bright before it welcomed the ominous darkness behind it.

"Prisoner Zero has escaped." The darkness announced, the monotone voice as familiar as ever, only more amplified.

The man walked forward, and Kurt stayed put, hesitantly allowing his hand to slip away from the man's, bringing his own to his face to hide himself from the thing in a hideous and pitiful attempt.

"Prisoner Zero has escaped." It echoed itself.

"Hello? Hello…" The man asked emptiness.

They both jumped back a bit, Kurt more than him, when the giant blue eye filled the void of darkness, not connected to anything, just _there_. Kurt sat down on the floor before his small legs could give way. His eyes went wide, and he couldn't rip them away as he stared.

"What- what's that?" Kurt mumbled, wishing to the moon and back that he could feel the warming comfort of that man's hand again.

His question was left unanswered. But it only loomed in the room for a moment before the crack snapped shut, a light flying across the room like a bullet as it did so. They floating eye looked around frantically before the wall and the crack resumed to its normal self.

"There! See, I told you it'd close. Good as new." He said, gesturing to now-closed wall as he sat on Kurt's bed.

"What's that thing? Was that… was that Prisoner Zero?" Kurt asked, picking himself up from the floor he sat on slowly, his eyelids not able not relax as they continued to stay far too wide open.

"No. I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Whatever it was, it sent me a message. Physic paper." He said, waving a little pad in the air. Kurt didn't say anything about how he didn't know what 'physic' meant. "It takes a lovely little message," He explained, his eyes narrowing as he read it. "'Prisoner Zero has escaped.' But why tell us? Unless…" He trailed off, thinking, standing up from the bed.

"Unless what?" Kurt insisted, tired of this man's suspense games or inability to finish a sentence.

"Unless Prisoner Zero escaped through here. But he couldn't have, we'd know…" He decided. He thought for only a second before he darted off, running out the door and into hallway by the staircase. Kurt followed after him.

"It's difficult. Blimey, nothing works yet, but there's _something _I'm missing." He complained. "In the corner of my eye…" He whispered, turning his head around dramatically slow.

He stared behind him at the wall like something was wrong, only lasting a moment before something started booming, making noise like a gong.

"No, no, no!" He yelled, running down the hall and up the stairs, Kurt following close behind, confused.

He dashed out the door like it was a great race, and Kurt was feeling his breath fall short as he ran, almost tripping over his bare feet as he ran.

"I've got to get back in there!" He shouted as he ran through the front yard, hopping over tree-house debris. "The engines are phasing!"

The man knelt down, frantically picking up his rope. "It's just a _box!_" Kurt shouted. "How can a _box _have _engines?_"

"It's not a box," He explained. "It's a time machine."

"What?" Kurt asked. "A time machine? Those aren't real! Those are only in story books!" He protested.

"Won't be real for much longer if we can't get it stabilized." He responded. "Five minute hop into the future should do it." He contemplated, tossing the rope into box.

Kurt looked at the box, the box that had fallen out of the sky and had a swimming pool and a library. He smiled hopefully. "Can... can I come?"

"Not yet, five minutes. Give me five minutes, I'll be right back." He shouted, sitting on the side of the box, getting ready to jump. Kurt couldn't let him go, he couldn't.

"People always say that." He stated, and it was true. His mom had said that. Then she never came back.

He looked back to Kurt, hopping off the side of the box, walking to Kurt and bending to his level. "Am I people?" He asked. "Do I even look like people?"

Kurt looked at him, and he felt tears prick his eyes. This man couldn't leave him, but he looked like one to trust. He looked like he'd been through more than just magic adventures, like he was one to trust and he knew what it was like to be betrayed. He looked sincere, and Kurt accepted that. But his mom had looked sincere enough when she'd said that to Kurt…

"Trust me." He said, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezing it. "I'm the Doctor."

Kurt felt a smile escape his tight lips. The man saw this, let go, and went back to his box. He sat on the side, and before he jumped, he smirked at Kurt and said, "Five minutes."

He watched the big blue box fade in and out into thin air, making a loud noise before it finally diminished. He ran to the door that was wide open, speeding to get his things. After this, the Doctor would come back, he'd take Kurt into his box and they'd fly away or whatever that box did. He'd hold Kurt's hand, he'd show him amazing things, and he wouldn't give him Batman sheets he didn't want or action figures when he wanted dolls. This man didn't even care about what he liked or what he did. He'd call him Delilah and then they'd go to a long, long time ago in the time machine when there where princesses and queens and kings, and then Kurt would be a prince or a king, and he'd wear big fancy clothes and everyone would love him, and they'd throw him balls and parties and put on big plays for him, and sometimes he'd even get to be the star of the play, and everyone would admire his singing voice and love his acting, and not give him a tiny role in the school play just because he wanted the girl part. In fact, they'd let him play the girl parts and they'd love it even more then when he did the boy parts. Everyone would want to be like the fancy and beautiful prince, Delilah Bell, and he'd live every fairy tale, except he'd be the prince instead of the princess. He didn't mind if he still had to have a Prince Charming instead of a princess. Princess Charming didn't even sound right. And nobody would think anything of a prince and a prince, they'd love it just as much as a princess and a prince.

Kurt smiled. He loved this idea. He tossed his clothes into his school backpack, taking out the stray papers and books he wouldn't need in fairy tale land. Kurt Hummel might have to go to school, but Delilah Bell wouldn't have to.

He hummed to himself, those happy songs he heard on the radio. He shoved his vests, his jeans, his favorite bowtie, a bottle of spray conditioner, and an old raggedy teddy bear into the bag. He stripped of his pajamas, shoving those inside the bag and put on more fancy clothes: a button up gray shirt, a dark green tie of his father's, and black dress pants. He combed through his hair, but rushed. He seemed somewhat appropriate looking for a prince. He ran downstairs, his bag slung over one shoulder, and ran up the stairs, back out the door, and sat on a log, patiently waiting with his back straight.

For ten minutes, he sat like that. He forced a smile on his faced to wipe away the worry, reminding himself he was just running a tad late. He crossed his legs, leaned against a tree and sighed, squeezing his backpack to his chest.

An hour later, when the sun started peeking through the trees, the first worried tear fell down Kurt's cheek. He brushed it away with the back of his hand, but others followed. He put his backpack on the ground, patted it down and leaned on it, telling himself that the Doctor would wake him up when he got here.

Kurt would have fallen asleep immediately; he hadn't gotten a bit of sleep all night. But the sky roared in protest, a loud clap of thunder echoing in the early morning. He sniffled back hysterics when water droplets began to fall.

It wasn't long, only twenty minutes, before he was fast asleep, even in the rain. He was tired, and he wasn't quite ready to deal with his father's personality or another school day, only where the boys would step on his heels in line and snicker, where they'd call him a girl and no one would stick up for him, even though the teacher said that was what you were supposed to do when you saw someone get bullied.

He didn't dream of fairy tales when he fell asleep, only the realistic nightmares of another day of living life with bigger boys pushing him around.

"Kurt? Kurt, why are you out here in the rain? What happened to the tree house?" A voice hissed, and Kurt's eyes fluttered open only to see his father's face in front of him, his typical baseball cap and early-age wrinkles included.

"Is he here?" Kurt wondered aloud, sitting straight up, faster than he should of, being still half asleep and he got a little dizzy.

"Is who here? Kurt, are you alright? Let's go inside," Daddy said, putting his hand on Kurt's back and pushing him into the house. Kurt's eyes strayed the area, and he noticed everything was wet, and then that the water was coming from the sky, and then that his father had an umbrella over him and that's why he couldn't feel it, and then that he was soaking wet in only thin dress clothes.

Kurt didn't respond to his father's question. Not only was he preoccupied with thoughts of the night before, but it wasn't really his father's business.

"Kurt, its noon, why didn't you catch the bus?" He pestered, pulling Kurt into the house.

"I sat on the log outside for a moment," Kurt lied in monotone, abnormally good at lying for a six year old. "And fell asleep. Sorry."

"Kurt, you scared me!" Burt complained, bringing Kurt into the kitchen.

"Sorry." Kurt repeated, looking at his hands while his father sat him down at the table. His breath caught when he saw the empty bowl of custard in front of him.

"And what _is _all this mess?" He shouted, grabbing something out of the cupboard while he threw his arms around. Kurt merely glimpsed at the many half empty bowls on the counter, the mess of spat-out yoghurt and apple on the floor. "Were you up all night, doing this? And Kurt, you left the burner on! Not only could you of set the house on fire, but my gas bill is going to go through the roof!"

"Sorry." Kurt said, again. He didn't know if he meant it or not, he didn't regret doing any of this, but he didn't want to see his father upset, either.

"Just, please, don't do it again, Kurt." His father pleaded, lifting up Kurt's head up in his hand, holding a spoonful of purple medicine in the other hand.

"I won't." Kurt whispered, putting his mouth obediently over the spoon, feeling the ugly black licorice taste on his tongue. And it was a promise.

Because whoever the Doctor was, he must have just been all a dream.


	2. Eleventh hour part two MaeEmma's

First grade was as so: first grade. Insults consisted of the word 'girl' and physical harassment was shoving woodchips down your back at recess. Nothing really changed for a while except for Kurt's ever-changing favorite color. For a while after that dream about the strange man, it was gray, the dull gray you saw in clouds on a rainy day. But after he sucked up his disappointment, for almost two months (the longest he'd had one steady favorite color) was dark blue. A familiar color, in fact, the same color he saw in his front yard in that perfect dream.

Second grade was tolerable, after having plenty of practice with first grade. He drew doodles of The Raggedy Doctor in the margins of his school notebooks and made elaborate pictures and stories about the man. The teachers were fascinated by his depictions of the adventurous between The Raggedy Doctor and Delilah Bell in some sort of fairy tale land. It was his insensitive second grade teacher who'd spoken up first.

_"Kurt, these stories are really amazing," Mrs. Jacobson complimented, almost breathing down his neck as she stood behind Kurt at his desk._

_"Thank you, Mrs. Jacobson." Kurt said, smirking and turning around in his chair. "But they're not stories. I didn't make them up. See, I had a dream once about this guy. But, Mrs. Jacobson, I've been thinking about it a lot… I don't know if it was really a dream! I mean, he said he'd come back in five minutes, but maybe he's just running late. Or maybe he just meant five years and was in a hurry so he-"_

_"Kurt!" She interrupted, kneeling down to be at eye level with him. "The stories you write, Kurt, they're fantasies. And what does a fantasy mean? We've talked about it in class." _

_"Make-believe." Kurt whispered, looking sorrowfully at the picture he was drawing of The Raggedy Doctor, with his black-crayon bangs in front of his eyes and his torn-up sky-blue shirt. "But, Mrs. Jacobson, when I got back down to my room, all my stuff was messed up, just like how he'd left it! The dresser was on the other side of the room and-"_

_"Kurt, you know, you probably did that yourself when you were sleep-walking."_

_"I can't pick up a dresser!" Kurt defended. _

_"And Kurt, time-machines aren't real." She said, squeezing his shoulder with a tiny smile as she left Kurt and went to attend to another student._

Little did that teacher know, he spent that recess bawling his eyes out.

By third grade, things started taking a turn for the worse as children got crueler and their vocabulary increased, along with their physical outlets. Between his stubborn belief in The Raggedy Doctor and the fabulous fashion sense he was developing, kids seemed to have every reason to pick on him. When Kurt's teacher (no longer the evil Mrs. Jacobson) read Kurt's story aloud to the class, this story being yet another copy of _The Fabulous Adventures of Delilah Bell and The Raggedy Doctor, _kids began calling Kurt "Delilah." Kurt would have been excited if people had declared this new name. But instead, it was simply an insult, comparing him to a girl. He spent far too many recesses alone on the swings, crying silent tears.

In fourth grade, some blondie who thought he was all that and more called Kurt gay for the first time. He was still innocent and naïve and he'd honestly thought the word meant only good things being the only time he'd heard the word at Christmas time and they sang 'Deck The Halls' and one of the lines had 'gay apparel ' in it, and he knew what apparel was, and frankly, he loved it. He was almost flattered until he announced this to his father and the concept was introduced to him.

Fifth grade was living hell. He'd started completely innocent and naïve, and by the end of the first week he knew every swear word in alphabetical order, and more about male _and _female anatomy then he was near ready to know. Kurt had given up on The Raggedy Doctor, and desperately wished other people would too, after the bullying that had continued into fourth grade. But boys, now equipped with perverted mindsets, had efficiently turned "Delilah Bell" into "De-lack-ah Balls." Kurt, at first, just snorted and told them in was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, but by the second time in sent him into tears. He'd had so many tears. _So many. _There was a rage building up in him, but he knew all it would lead to was a series of laughs at his pathetic attempts. When Kurt had just felt like dying, one day, after some idiot called him gay, _again, _he ended up stabbing that boy's palm with a mechanical pencil. It caused moderate pain, of course, he cringed, but the response to this was mainly cursing and more insults at Kurt's expense, and he didn't resort to this physical violence again, and stuck to ignoring them and the constant reminder he was better than all of them.

Middle school was rough: suddenly, everything went from kicking you in the knee intentionally with a soccer ball to being brutally shoved into lockers, and 'girly' turned into 'faggot.' But he survived, got decent grades, and met Mercedes Jones who was happy to lend a shoulder to cry on when he needed one. The beautiful thing, though, was that they'd almost allowed him to start with a clean slate. That or they'd just thought their own insults we're getting old so they moved on to bigger and better things.

In seventh grade, the dating game started. It was horrific. The world suddenly revolved around sex appeal and whatever jokes you could extract from Health class. All except for Kurt, and possibly a few others, who still had some sort of shape or form of sanity.

In fourth grade, Kurt had been declared gay by his classmates, before he even knew it himself. But in seventh grade, Kurt was sure of whom he was. If that meant those ignorant Neanderthals were right about something for once, so be it.

It felt like everyone had reasons to make fun of him. He came off as a superficial snob under all those designer clothes and perfected hair, but the truth was, he was just lonely, as horrifically clichéd as it all was. He was never mean to anyone, but that didn't mean he was going to treat the ninety-percent of the school that picked on him with respect. Everyone was surer of Kurt's sexuality then he was, and he hadn't even come out. Hell, he walked down the hallway with his arms linked with Mercedes and people still pointed at him and shouted, "Homo alert! Homo alert! Homo alert! Evacuate the guys before he jumps 'em!"

By high school, if anything, he should have been proud. He'd made it through all that and hadn't been pronounced clinically depressed once. He'd come out of the closet sophomore year, and his father accepted him and everything was simply peachy. But then he met Finn Hudson, fell head-over-heels for him, and he effectively ruined his life with yet another social suicide. But he had found glee club, got wrapped up in that, and next thing he knew, Finn Hudson was his stepbrother, and not to mention, absolutely, 101% straight.

But with a bully that threatened the life of him came Dalton Academy, and then Blaine Anderson, who more or less fixed everything, saved his life, and caught him every time he fell on his face. He was perfect, all except for his obsession with hair gel and Katy Perry, which he probably wouldn't be as fun without. Heated arguments about who were better, Lady Gaga or Katy Perry, were no doubt easily one of the most entertaining parts of this relationship.

Blaine was the first one Kurt ever told about the Raggedy Doctor since elementary school. He'd told Blaine about it in the perspective of it being strictly a dream he had when he was merely six. A fairy tale of sorts.

_They sprawled out over Kurt's bed, staring at the ceiling as Kurt rambled on, knowing every single detail with crystal-clear memory. Blaine ran a finger over Kurt's knuckles and he held his hand, intently listening to Kurt's words. _

_"And the he left," Kurt continued, "And I waited. I was wearing a beautiful outfit, my father's tie and a too-big white button up shirt after I got rid of those ugly Spiderman pajamas. I was so excited, I thought we were going to live happily ever after in some fairy tale where I'd meet my Prince Charming…" Kurt stopped, grinning as he stopped to look at Blaine, Kurt's own blue eyes gleaming. "Of _course_, it was dream. I met my Prince Charming on Earth, didn't I?" _

_Blaine laughed, staring into Kurt's eyes. They'd always been whimsical, beautiful, but always behind a fog of protection. It was almost like now, that fog had disappeared. "Don't get it in your hair-spray covered skull that I'm letting you go for any fairy tale princes any time soon." _

_Kurt squeezed his hand, chuckling. "I don't need a prince. I already have one. But anyway, I waited for hours, until the sky started turning pink and clouds rolled in, and I fell asleep on the log when it started raining. My dad came out and scolded me when I woke up. So this isn't dream land anymore, but Blaine, this is that part that gives you the goose bumps. Ready?" Kurt asked. _

_"Ready." Blaine said, amused by Kurt's seriousness. _

_"Blaine! Don't laugh!" Kurt scolded, sitting up. "This part is, like, serious. I'm not kidding. You could even ask my dad, he'd tell you it's true. Of course, he thought I did it- but are you going to take my paranormal experience for real or what?" _

_"Okay. I promise I'll listen politely and not freak out." Blaine said, still smiling, but he meant it. _

_"So," Kurt said, leaning over Blaine, who was still lying down of the bed as though it might build dramatic effect, "I woke up from the dream and went inside and- poof!" Kurt shouted, flailing his arms as Blaine laughed. "The fish custard was still there, Blaine! Still! And so was the spat-out apple! And when I went to my room, the dresser was still moved and everything! I couldn't move a dresser when I was six! It's so weird, I don't know what to make of it!" _

_Blaine looked actually sort of shocked. "Wait- you're not kidding? You woke up and everything was still there?" _

_"Yeah!" Kurt exclaimed. "Isn't that, like, freaky? I mean… for a minute… you might even think it really happened…" _

Blaine had been amazed by Kurt' story. He'd said something along the lines of "most creative thing I've ever heard." Kurt had showed him the stacks of pictures, badly drawn stick figures in crayon, all looking alike. Blaine had found the written stories before Kurt could snatch it away, and Blaine had grinned as he read proudly, pulling the old notebook paper away from Kurt's grabbing hands, _"And then he spat the apple all over the floor! All over! What kind of rude person did that?" _

Blaine did, though, put his mind to use after a while. It took heavy convincing, after all the trauma throughout elementary school. Blaine had sat behind him, breathing down his neck, until Kurt had written down every event that took place that night in his "big-boy words" as Blaine had called it. In the time of only a month afterwards, somehow, Kurt had found himself with a scholarship to New York University with that story and he didn't even know how it happened, but Blaine had made it known that he had something to do with it.

Currently, it was Kurt's senior year at McKinley High School, he was the countertenor King of Glee and Fashion, and he had a scholarship to NYC in his pocket and a lovely boyfriend who was bound to tag along, being he was practically melting talent and his parents had enough money to buy the moon. For once, everything seemed perfect.

_Seemed _perfect.

It was that tiny piece missing that Kurt needed in his life, the thing he longed for every waking moment, very possibly even more then the limelight.

He missed his Raggedy Doctor with a burning passion, and even though he didn't know it, he was still waiting for that blue box to appear in his front yard.

Kurt spun around in circles in the black office chair, leaning back and watching the world whiz by in a colorful blur. The typical Broadway music blared from his speakers, specifically Defying Gravity at the given moment, and his homework lay, half-finished and abandoned, on his desk. His brain felt like a plate of mush- he was in no condition for algebra, and spinning around in circles sounded _much _more appealing.

"Delilah!" Kurt heard behind his music. He paused his spinning abruptly, causing him to be a bit dizzy, and he muted his IPod for a moment to see if the thing he'd just thought he'd heard under the music was only his imagination. He didn't even make the connection at first, he simply wondered if there was a confused man shouting names in his yard.

"Delilah! I worked out what it was! I know what I was missing! You've got to get out of there!" Kurt heard dimly from downstairs. His brain froze, his breath stopped when he swore he recognized the voice. It was the kind of thing you just don't forget.

He stood up so he could see out the tiny window above his desk, and his heart literally stopped dead.

A blue box was standing neatly in his yard, upright, and even from the distance Kurt could make out the easy fact it was an old police box.

Kurt heard the door open, the door that was supposed to be locked. He held his breath, nearing the stairs as the house flooded with the shouts of, "Delilah! Are you alright? Are you there? You've got to get out, right now!"

Kurt could easily hear the running around the house, the shouting, like it was right next to him. He was extremely afraid, and if he didn't convince himself _he _was back, the only other option was that there was a strange, unknown man running about his house, most likely drunk or wanting blood of some sort. He grabbed a purple softball bat in a bin on the stairs, holding it behind his back.

_Kurt, you're dreaming. Calm down. This is just some sort of night terror. You'll be awake any minute now._

Kurt's steps were slow, and he was just about hallway up the stairs when, amongst the sound of doors shaken and banged on, he heard a loud and annoying buzzing noise from a magic wand that was painfully familiar, he could hear the shouts, and the one that really stood out was, "Prisoner Zero! Prisoner Zero's here!"

Kurt froze for a moment. _It's a_ _night terror, Kurt. Just a night terror, Kurt. You're dreaming. This isn't real._

"Do you understand me? Prisoner Zero is _here!_" The shouts continued, and Kurt grew weary. He knew he was dreaming. Of course he was. But it just felt so… real. He could remember his entire day. He couldn't have dreamt _all _that.

It was only a dream, so why couldn't he just walk up those stairs... accept this silly dream for whatever clown would be up there and however twistedly big his shotgun would be.

He marched up the stairs, preparing himself to awake when the dream reached it's truly unrealistic proportions and his mind figured out that he was dreaming and that he could wake up now. He reached the top of the stairs, spinning around to see whatever was haunting his dreams this time.

His burst of courage fell like rocks when he saw the man he recognized so excruciatingly well. He was only two feet away from the man, only two feet away from a _dream._

When he turned back around, panicking. He was the perfect resemblance of all those memories- memories or a _make-believe story. _It didn't make any sense.

But he was dreaming! _Dreaming!_ That was all!

So he hit him in the forehead with a softball bat out of sheer confusion when he got too close, very effectively knocking him out. Kurt's eyes widened, darting back and forth between the bat he just hit a man in the forehead with, and the man lying on the floor, unconscious.

Should he call 9-1-1? What would he say? A mysterious man from my childhood dreams is back and trying to tell me to get the hell out of my house, so I hit him in the forehead with a bat? Of course not, but telling them he had no idea who he was, was an option. But he didn't want this man behind bars- illusion of not, he needed some answers.

Or- God- _Kurt, your dreaming. Maybe if you go to sleep or something you'll wake up. Is that even possible? _

Suddenly, he wished he watched _Inception _for a second time like everyone said he should. Then maybe he'd get this whole, strange dream phenomenon a tad more.

Despite losing the urge to be hostile, Kurt was still panicking and his thoughts rushed through his head so fast he didn't have time to comprehend them before they were lost.

Kurt didn't really know what he was doing when a dashed up the stairs and found himself in Finn's room until he found his bike lock. He honestly had no idea what he was doing- a _bike _lock? He knew the combination was 'finn' ever since last summer when Kurt had borrowed the thing, and when you have a combination as easy as that it's hard to forget. Something like that's also something good to use against a person. He grabbed the lock and sped down the stairs again.

It was a simple matter: tangle the bike lock until there was a hole that would fit around his wrist. It wasn't like Finn didn't handcuff Kurt to the staircase with the same bike lock on April Fool's- and his birthday- and by Halloween he knew what was coming and was able to escape the room the second he saw the dark purple coil in Finn's hands.

He successfully tangled the bike lock into some mess and slipped the man's hand it to it, hesitant to touch the same hand he so comfortably held twelve years ago, and slid it in the loop, knotting it over so his hand was trapped in the mess. The other end of the bike lock was on the end of the staircase, so he sat slumped over on the bottom stair. Kurt bit the end of his finger in his mouth out of nervous habit. If Kurt wasn't dreaming, this man had to be some prank. Maybe someone had remembered the nightmares of elementary school and did whatever. Or _something_. But he was so real, it had to be him.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, Kurt, wake up._

After he'd willed himself to wake up, his eyes closed shut, biting a bit harder on his finger, to no avail, he rushed into his room. Scouring his drawers was an instinct move, again. Either an instinct move or he was thinking through this stuff and not hearing the situation being plotted out in his head.

Once he found it, he stripped off his expensive cashmere sweater and tossed it in the corner of room regretfully. Never before had he been so thankful Blaine had forced the matter of Halloween upon him last year. It wasn't his costume; it was Blaine's, so it was a bit too big.

Maybe that would help hide the fact it was Playboy.

He gave up on the skinny pants at once- they just looked wrong on Kurt. Of course, last year when Blaine wore it, it fit him rather well. He sort of ruined the entire fun of it by wearing a tee-shirt under the shirt that was losing six top buttons (what kind of boyfriend wore a Playboy costume and then PG-ed it?). Kurt sort of ruined the entire point of going to the costume for help- he ended up ditching both the shirt and the pants, finding himself in black pants and a white shirt instead of navy blue. Well, he had to avoid that fashion abomination- dark blue on dark blue was just _lazy _if anything. Plus, something told Kurt that he'd somehow figure out that a majority of police do button up their shirts and more often than not stray away from loose-fitting skinny jeans.

Never before had he hated wearing something so much. Looking like a 'normal' person really just wasn't Kurt's thing. And he didn't even look normal- he looked like a confused police man who never got a uniform.

He put on the plastic accessories- the stupid clip on radio box and the belt and whatnot. It was terrible. He felt like an idiot. His brain constantly questioned him and his sanity, but he continued. This man hadn't come off as the brightest crayon in the box twelve years ago, so maybe Kurt would get lucky and this man wouldn't notice his idiotic moves.

All he needed was a caterpillar mustache, thicker eyebrows, and some black sunglasses and Kurt Hummel could pass for your friendly neighborhood creeper.

He bounced down the stairs, and paced back and forth in the hall, the too-big belt weighing down his pants and causing them to start falling. Kurt gave up on pulling them back up every five seconds and just put a hand on his hip to hold the waistband to his skin. He hated this- every moment of the pacing, the rushed and jumbled thoughts, the anxiety that this man might wake up.

Kurt had some pretty elusive dreams in his eighteen years. But this, after the never-forgotten adventure with The Raggedy Doctor when he was six, was certainty the most realistic one he'd ever had.

Blaine sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, moving around constantly like it would make any difference. The random clangs of his metal pocket buttons scraping the seat was accompanied by the joyous and annoying steady beeps coming from the loads of equipment in the room, all overlapping each other. It was creepy. Well- the room full of people in comas was the creepy part, the many beeps just added to the madness.

He really hated hospitals. They were depressing and you can't play guitar and sing in hospital before people start shushing you. Blaine bit down on his lip when the last nurse left the room, their eyes on a clipboard, dismissing Blaine like he was another one of in the row of unconscious people. He wished his mom was back with those Subway sandwiches already. Blaine wished he'd come with her now, but a better deal altogether was just to have never come to this sterilized haven at all.

Three weeks ago Blaine had come to the hospital with his mom to support her, help her deal with the fact her best friend was on a hospital cot and hooked up to a machine. He had come again last week- and when he recognized the man on the cot next to him from a rundown strip mall he sort of mentally freaked out. Then he'd come again, after going to the same place, that man _still _there, he took the picture he'd taken and compared it. Sure enough, it was exactly the same. Blaine ended up at the hospital every day since then with his mom, visiting this woman he'd only spoken to once or twice, finding new people with every visit. Half the people in the tiny unit had already been spotted; curiously, all at about the same spot like they all had the same intentions. Blaine hadn't told anyone about it yet, but when he caught a picture on his phone of his mother's best friend- who was in a coma- walking about town, he considered telling his mom. It was almost like it was her business, now; if it had something to do with the woman she visited more than that woman's parents visited her.

"Doctor,"

Blaine jumped from the shift of sound in the room between beeping to the nice surprise of a voice. He swore it came from behind him, but it must be someone who walked in. He looked towards the door, and yet, no one was there. It wasn't a terribly large room…

When he turned around, sure enough, a man's mouth was moving, hoarsely whispering again, "Doctor."

Blaine was startled for a moment, before he realized this man must have woken up. He didn't know the slightest thing about comas or the brain or whatever he learned in school last week and already forgot, but he must have woken up and was calling for a doctor. Blaine saw people wake up from comas all the time: specifically on television, but this was a little different. His eyes didn't flutter open, and alertness didn't suddenly seep into him. But television lied sometimes, right?

"Doctor,"

That didn't come from the man that time, and instead, it came from another woman across the room. She spoke clearly, and her mouth moved, but her eyes remained closed and she stayed still. Blaine looked about frantically. Shouldn't someone already be in here? With all these annoying monitors, you'd think they'd be able to tell or _something. _Two people were just- awake! Already!

"Doctor,"

Blaine spun around his chair, and watched another man repeat the others, "Doctor."

Suddenly, people joined until all of the unconscious people in the unit, probably fifteen people at the least, were speaking the same word, none of them really awake. Even the woman only a foot away from him spoke, her eyes shut and her body unmoving aside from her mouth.

Blaine wasn't a doctor. But this wasn't normal.

He stood up from the chair and rushed out, running.

He darted through the hallway, not sure what he was looking for- a doctor, yes, of course. Even they unconscious people knew that.

Blaine felt a hand stop him short. He had to look up to see the woman only an inch taller than him, probably courtesy of some enormous heels of some sort. "Excuse me," She hissed. "No running, please."

"Are- are you a doctor?" Blaine shouted, distressed. A few more people in the hallway stopped to see what was going on, but most likely quickly dismissed it as an escapee from the clinically insane unit.

"Yes," She said calmly. "Can I help you?"

"It's the- the people! In the- the coma-place-thing! They're all shouting! All of them!" He said, pointing a finger behind him to the coma unit. He sounded like an idiot, but God knew he was just confused.

She raised an eyebrow at the breathless boy, his school uniform jacket tied around his waist and his gelled back hair in some funny lump from running his hand through it. She seemed doubtful, but looked her clipboard for a moment before agreeing to come silently, walking down the halls so white they looked sterilized, and smelled it, too.

Blaine followed her long but paced strides. She looked to be in no hurry, and Blaine's mind was shouting at a deafening tone- "_Hurry up! Hurry up!_"

They reached the unit, and she walked in, eyeing the patients that appeared silent. Blaine fell confused, more confused than he was when it started. He could only wait for one would come out of his mouth now.

"So, they all called at once, that's what you're saying. All of them- all the _coma _patients." She said, annoyed. Blaine bit his lip. Maybe he was just as insane as this woman was implying he was. "You appear to go to private school; at least I know it's not _my_ taxes paying for your terrible education. You do understand that these people are all _comatosed- _don't you?"

"Yes, doctor," Blaine said. "That's why I-"

"Then _why _are you wasting my time?" She snapped.

"Because they called for you," Blaine explained.

"Me?" She asked, looking at him like he was only the king of idiocy and insanity and whatnot.

Blaine nodded. He began to open his mouth to say the word that had been repeated in this room so many times, but another man behind him finished the thought for him. He swallowed his unhealthy fear of whatever phenomenon was going on and let the woman look behind her, shocked.

The same thing was repeated, the same man starting it and the same people joining in at the same order until the word "Doctor" was being thrown around the room into a clutter of the simple word that was currently sending violent chills down Blaine's spine.

Kurt stopped his pacing short when he saw the man's head move lazily, until he was picking it up and his eyes were starting to blink open.

Kurt stood in front of the staircase, leaned against the beige wall and said the words he'd rehearsed in his head as the man began to gain awareness on the situation.

"Breaking and entering, send some backup, I've got him restrained." He said, lowering his voice much more than normal and held the plastic walkie-talkie to his mouth. It came off rather perfect, his voice didn't crack once and his emotions didn't show through his face. Kurt Hummel really could act when the deed was requested upon him.

"You- sit still." He snapped at the man, who was sitting up now, watching Kurt. Kurt pointed a finger at him, getting right up in his face as planned inside his jumbled and mushy brain that had trapped him in this mess.

"You hit me with a baseball bat." He accused, still a bit dazed, his eyes narrowing like he was still figuring that out.

"You're breaking and entering." Kurt accused right back. It was so perfect. He was so happy with his act he almost forgot he was supposed to be afraid right now.

He just sort of stared at Kurt for a moment, blinking a whole lot in confusion, before he tried to get up. Kurt held in his sigh of relief when he saw his clumsy trap had worked and the man was pulled back down before he could get too far up.

"Well that's much better, oh, come on, really, just what I needed." He muttered as he was pulled back down. He didn't question the restraint, which was rather appreciated. If Kurt did have handcuffs, he would have used them, but only some cheap plastic ones had come with this costume that he could have easily gotten out of. If Kurt could do it, it seemed as though anyone could.

"Could you just shut up now, I've got backup on the way." Kurt threatened. He pulled his belt up again, trying to look fierce while doing it, but just ending up looking like an idiot with too-big pants, which was exactly the case.

"Hang on- wait- you're a police man." He said.

Kurt let his eyebrows raise, putting a smug smile on his face, "And your breaking and entering. See how this works?" Of course, as much as he loved his act, and as good as he did it, the feeling of nostalgia was creeping up on him from behind and all he wanted to do was accuse this man of being _so late. _

"So what are you doing here? Where's Delilah?" He asked frantically, pulling his arm on the trap, like if he pulled hard enough he could get out, which was probably true.

Kurt tried to hide his sorrow when he recognized the word 'Delilah,' more nostalgia coming upon him, stalking him from behind and threatening to fill his mind with terrible memories.

"Delilah Bell?" Kurt asked, shoving his hands uncomfortably in his pockets and trying to hide his fear.

"Yes, Delilah. The little boy. Where is he?" He asked. Kurt's swallowed down all his feelings, some he couldn't even identify. He was confused; he knew that feeling inside and out. He was terribly, painfully nostalgic and his heart felt like it was going to crawl up his throat and jump out. "I promised him five minutes. But the engines were phasing, I suppose I might have gone a bit far. Did something happen to him?"

Kurt's breath was falling short. It was heartbreaking, the way he leaned forward until he couldn't go any farther, his eyes wide in concern.

But the boy he was looking for was gone. There was no Delilah Bell anymore and never again would there be. After enduring that much pain, fantasies can be easily identified as fantasies, and Delilah Bell couldn't do that, Kurt Hummel could. And Kurt Hummel needed to suck up the fact he was dreaming, or that this was some sick prank, and get himself together.

"Delilah Bell hasn't lived here in a long time." Kurt said hoarsely. And he was only speaking the truth.

"How long?" He asked. _Oh, he knows nothing- nothing at all. _

The things Kurt had been through because of a damn _fantasy. _He'd spent so much of his childhood believing, _waiting. _This wasn't real. Nothing felt real anymore, though. It was this strange emptiness- whatever the sentimental void in Kurt's soul was, this man was to blame for. Kurt just spent so long with this emptiness in his life that never would have been empty if this man hadn't been the thing to fill in the first place.

"Six months." Kurt blurted. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

"No, no, no." He groaned, in an almost-sarcastic tone. He slumped back, leaning on the stair behind him. "I can't be six months late, I said five minutes." He clarified, nodding at Kurt. He continued to be petrified. "I promised."

_You did promise. You promised._

Kurt turned around. He didn't know what he was doing when he pulled the plastic walkie-talkie to his mouth again and turned away.

"What happened to him?" He shouted, "What happened to Delilah Bell?"

"Sargent, it's me again." Kurt said in to the walkie-talkie, his back turned to the man. "Hurry up with that back up, this man knows something about Delilah Bell."

Kurt sniffled a bit when he'd finished the words that had only slid out of his mouth like butter. He ran the ugly sleeve of the shirt over his eyes, reminding himself now was _not _the time to cry.

Blaine stood behind the doctor awkwardly, watching her pull the eye of some random, unconscious man open. She sort of inspected his monitors and whatnot, doing the kind of thing doctors do.

They ruckus among these zombies has stopped after a moment. Blaine had really felt like throwing a, "Told you so," into the room as payback from all those are-you-really-that-stupid looks he'd received from her, but he decided the situation was a bit too serious for childish insults.

"I don't think they were even conscious," She muttered to herself, closing the man's eye. She looked at Blaine, no look of empathy or sorry on her face.

"Well, ma'am, there's another thing… see," Blaine muttered. "I don't understand it, I don't know why, but…"

"Yes?" She urged.

"I've seen almost all of them- walking around town and-" Blaine explained, his thick eyebrows melding together as he felt concern with himself.

"Excuse me? As in _these _patients?" She asked. It was funny- even after that entire thing she was still giving him looks that accused him of insanity.

"Yes! I mean, I don't get it either, but-"

"These patients are under twenty-four hour supervision- we know if their _blood pressure _changes." She hissed. "They're not walking around town and-"

"Please!" Blaine begged, talking over her shrill voice. She stopped; looking almost infuriated like Blaine was suggesting she couldn't do her job or something. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I have pictures, all-"

"I'm going to have to ask you leave." She said firmly. "I have the right to dismiss any visitors at any time and you are disrupting the-"

"_Please!" _Blaine shouted over her, holding out his phone, "Just look!"

"If you don't leave, I'm going to have to call security." She threatened, her voice overlapping his, getting louder each time.

Blaine gave up. He looked at the woman for a moment, and bit his lip before he could snap any nasty comments at her. He stormed out, not pushing anything or slamming any doors, but the way his footsteps echoed against the tile and he practically radiated the annoyance he was feeling said it all.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, preparing a somewhat sane explanation to his mom for why he wouldn't he there when she got back.

"I need to speak to whoever lives in this house right now." He said, cool and collected, sounding business-like as he rubbed his wrist.

Kurt leaned forward and slapped his hand away from where he struggled against it, trying to slip his hand out without Kurt's knowing. "I live in this house." Kurt announced.

"But you're the police." He protested.

"Yes! And I live here! You've got a problem with that?" Kurt shouted. He didn't let himself question the words coming out of his mouth.

Kurt waited for an answer, possibly some snarky comment or another protest. But he watched the man's eyes dart about the room for a moment before he asked, hushed, "How many rooms?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Count them for me, now." He demanded, his face solemn.

"Why?" Kurt asked, putting a hand on his hip as he questioned him.

"Because, it will change your life."

Kurt gave him a look, but answered him, not turning around to prove he knew the number of doors without counting, if that was this man's game. "Five." He said. He still didn't around, counting each door and pointing to it with a finger without even looking. "One, two, three, four, and five."

"Six." The man added, insisting.

"Six?" Kurt asked. Was this a joke, or some sort of twisted metaphor?

"Look."

"_Where_?" Kurt was annoyed now. He was nearly sure this was some funky metaphor that would make him think about life in some weird new light.

"Exactly where you don't want to look, where you never want to look. The corner of your eye. Look behind you."

Kurt felt the man's ominous fall upon him. Of course- when he looked behind him there would be nothing there…

He grew worried, every millisecond, the pressure got heavier. He felt him looking exactly there- the place he- _no one- _ever, ever wanted to look. And there, from the corner of his eye, he saw it. The one thing that was supposed to be there even less than the man in front of him.

"That's- that is _not _possible." Kurt mumbled. The door- it was just there, so innocent and so normal- and yet, it was so wrong. Unless a contractor had hid behind his back and suddenly created a new wall in a matter of minutes, that door was not supposed to be there. "_How _is that possible?"

"There's a perception field around the door. Sensed it last time I was here. _Should_ have seen it." He explained quickly from behind Kurt. Kurt really paid no attention, only hearing a string of fast-paced noises.

"That's a whole room. A whole room I never even noticed." Kurt whispered.

"The field just stops your noticing." He continued. "Something came here a long time ago, to hide, and it's still hiding. And you _need_ to _let me go_ now." He demanded, shouting to grab Kurt's attention, which he was losing rapidly fast.

"I don't have the key, I must of lost it…" Kurt whispered, walking towards the door.

"How could you of lost it?" He shouted. Kurt walked faster, nearing the door, staring at the thing he'd walked by so many times and was just seeing. "Stay away from that door!" He yelled, again. So much _yelling, _gosh.

"Do not touch that door!" He commanded, just as Kurt put his hand on the doorknob, twisting it like it had something to prove.

"Listen to me!" He shouted. "Do not open that door!"

Kurt heard nothing but the annoyance in his voice, words lost on him as he opened the door.

"Why does no one ever listen to me?" He complained. "Do I just have a face nobody listens to?"

Kurt felt the room, literally felt it, as though it was breathing on him, the inanimate object telling him all its secrets. Everything was neglected, the white wall paper fading beige, peeling, crates in the corner and stacked against the wall, the only real thing in there being an old and corroding wooden rocking chair that looked like Goldilocks had sat in, an entire arm on the floor, dislocated from its real place. Kurt almost felt a pang of sympathy for the room, the only light coming from the cracks of a boarded-up window and the elegant violet drapes the color of wine.

Kurt was so extraordinarily scared, and yet he couldn't help but run his hand along the walls, pulling bits of wallpaper with him.

"My screwdriver, where is it? Silver thing? Blue at the end?" He shouted for Kurt, who listened, staring curiously at the thing on one of the crates that matched the description. "Where did it go?"

"There's nothing here." Kurt noted. He felt himself informing the man of this, like there was nothing to be afraid of, really. It was just a misunderstood room-

An _invisible, _misunderstood room. Kurt needed desperately to get back to reality, to let the real, instinctual fear kick in so he'd run out of this house screaming and arms flailing. But he couldn't find himself doing it.

"Whatever's in there, you can't be seeing the whole room. What makes you _think _you can see it?" He shouted to him. "Now, please, just _get out._"

"Silver and blue at the end?" Kurt asked, glancing wearily at the thing.

"My screwdriver? Yeah." He responded.

"It's here."

"Most of rolled under the door," Kurt heard.

He swallowed his fear. "Yes, must of… and then it must have jumped up on the table."

"Get out of there." He hissed, and when Kurt made no move to escape, he repeated himself, fiercely shouting, "Get out of there! _Now!_"

Kurt stared wistfully at the screwdriver, drowning in some purple goo, just as raggedy as The Doctor himself, appearing to be on the verge of falling apart. Kurt knew it was the same magic wand that fixed the crack in his wall. He couldn't let it just die here, or whatever magic screwdrivers did when they broke. Kurt assumed they died.

He carefully picked it up with both hands, using as little skin as it possibly took to pick it up. The goo hit his fingers, and he cringed at the grotesque substance, wiping it on the side of the box.

"Get out of there!" He repeated. Kurt could hear him fighting the lock, trying to bring the wooden pole on the staircase down. Kurt ignored him, slowly picking up the wand, perplexed by the goo that stuck on the thing.

Kurt felt the monster behind him before it even touched him. His eyes widened and his limbs froze. He looked around frantically, looking for the creature stalking him.

"What is it? What's going on?" The man yelled at Kurt.

"There's nothing here," He reassured himself, "But..." He whispered, keeping his panic contained inside of him.

"In the corner of your eye." He said.

Kurt's breathed hitched when he swore he saw a flash of blue behind him that wasn't there before. "What is it?"

"Don't look it at- if it knows you've seen it, it will kill you." He shouted. Kurt's fingers began to violently shake from where they grasped the wand. His breath was too fast, but it felt like he wasn't getting any oxygen to his brain at all.

"Don't look at it!" He instructed again. Kurt's head turned when he felt the hot breath on his neck, only purely by instinct.

"Do _not _look at it!" He repeated.

Kurt's head turned again, and this time, it met glassy yellow marble-eyes. The thick blue worm opened its mouth wider then Kurt's head, it's sharp and thin fangs sharper then blades. It hissed, sticking its long, round red tongue out at Kurt and hissing like a snake.

It was then his scream escaped his lips, possibly higher than the average female.

"Get _out!_" The man shouted, and for once, Kurt was not the least bit hesitant to follow his order. He raced out the room, slamming the door hard behind him. He ran to the Doctor, tossing him the screwdriver as he put his head to the wall, panting. He knew very well there were tears coming down his cheeks, but it was only a sane reaction, being he'd just come in close contact with his murder.

The man pointed the screwdriver at the door, and the _click_ on the other side of the room implied something had been done. "Oh, what has the bad alien done to you?" He said. Kurt felt a queasy pang in his stomach at 'alien.'

"Will that door hold it?" Kurt whispered, absolutely terrified.

"Yes, of course, it's an inter-dimensional multiform from outer space. They're all terrified of wood." He said sarcastically, and Kurt, by no means, appreciated it.

A light, a bright yellow light, started appearing from the other side of the door, illuminating every crack. Kurt only peered at it for a second before turning his head away. He was going to die, anyway- what was the point of watching some mysterious shiny light flicker on the other end of some invisible door?

"What's it doing?" Kurt moaned. The man looked up from where he was making his screwdriver light up and pointing it at the bike lock.

"I don't know," He admitted calmly. "Run, just go. Your back up's coming, you'll be fine."

"There is no backup." Kurt hissed as he stared blankly at the wall.

"No, on the radio," He explained to Kurt, confused. "You called for back-up."

"It's a _pretend _radio." Kurt snapped. He ripped it off his shirt, throwing the hollow plastic toy on the ground. "It's plastic!"

"But you're a police man." He disputed.

"It's a Halloween costume!" Kurt snapped. "It's not even mine!"

The man only stared at him, confused, before he was bluntly interrupted by the knocking down of the door. Kurt stepped back, but did it wrong and fell on the rug.

Kurt squeezed the fabric on his pants for comfort, his eyes following the man that walked out. He almost relaxed- _it was only just a man and his dog. _It was the kind of man that made you wish you lived in a different neighborhood and the kind of dog that made you want to hide your children, but it wasn't a giant blue worm with glassy yellow eyes, so it was good enough for Kurt.

"It's just a man," Kurt whispered.

"No, it isn't." The Doctor corrected. "Look at the faces."

Kurt did as told; paying great attention to the faces like there was something he was missing, until it popped out and hit him in the face like a speeding car.

The dog growled, a mean and violent growl you'd expect from a dog of that size and that ratty black color, but the dog's mouth was shut. The man, on the other hand, despite making no noise, his mouth was open wide, and he barked at Kurt. The dog barked, and the man's mouth was the one opening and closing.

"What… what _is _that?" Kurt stuttered.

"It's one creature," the Doctor explained, almost smug with his knowledge, "One creature disguised as two. Clever ol' multiform. A bit of a rough job though- got the voice a bit juggled, did you?" He asked to the man in a dirty handy-man outfit.

"Mind me, where'd you get the pattern from?" He continued, the man's neck snapping in place as it turned to look at the Doctor. "You'd need a physic link, a life feed, how'd you fix that?"

The man growled at him, frustrated. Kurt's eyes only dashed between the man in the raggedy clothes, the man who apparently knew _everything _now, and the man who barked like a dog. This was all too confusing.

The man stepped forward, his dog doing the same thing at the same time, the same way. He growled again, before he opened his mouth and the same freakishly long fangs as the blue-worm monster appeared in his mouth.

"Stay boy!" The Doctor yelled at him. Kurt felt his hands cover his eyes, hide him from the thing. It was a childish thing to do, but he'd probably be dead in ten minutes anyway, so what did it matter?

"Don't worry, we're safe. You wannna know why? He sent for backup." The Doctor assured.

"I didn't send for backup!" Kurt reminded a bit annoyed.

"I know," the Doctor said, mimicking Kurt's tone. "That was a clever lie to save our lives. Okay- yeah! No backup! And that's why we're safe, alone we're not a threat to you, if we _had_ backup then you'd have to kill us."

Kurt just gave him a look, wondering where he was getting his conclusions now. But somehow, it had seemed to calm the dog/man down a bit.

All the chaos was interrupted, then, suddenly, by some booming voice that had an unidentified source_. "Attention Prisoner Zero, the human residence is surrounded."_

Kurt shuddered. That was when it dawned on him- the Prisoner Zero that had haunted Kurt's nightmares all his life was right there, trying to kill him. Disturbing, but with so many worries right now, that was dismissed to the bottom of the list.

"What was that?" Kurt whispered.

"Well, that would be backup." He answered Kurt before looking back to the psychotic monster of some sort. "Okay! One more time-" He shouted over the echoing, monotone voice that was repeating itself. "We do have backup and that's definitely why we're safe."

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

"We're safe apart from, you know, incineration." He admitted, glancing up at Kurt, whose eyes went wide at the monotonic chant. Everything was just _death _today, wasn't it?

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

The thing wandered into the door by its right, its movements robotic and expressionless. Kurt's eyes followed it wearily as it marched off into Finn's room. Could something like that leave some sort of disease in Finn's room? More importantly, if that were to happen, could Kurt catch it?

The man pounded the screwdriver on the ground, groaning, "Come on, _work!" _like it would make any difference.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

The thing obeyed after a moment, the top lighting blue, and he hastily waved it over the lock.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

After a moment, the lock just- unlocked? It didn't make sense, but, of course, not one thing in the past twenty minutes since this guy showed up had made sense if it didn't make Kurt question his sanity altogether.

Now that he could, the man stood up, and sort of flailed his wrist around. The plastic rope was knotted rather well, especially seeing as how Kurt's similarities to a boy scout stopped at gender. He tugged at the thing while he shouted, "Run!"

Kurt did so without having to be asked twice. He flew down the stairs at an unnaturally fast pace, and figured he'd be falling right on his face any second now; he tended to do so when he got nervous. The man ran after Kurt, his screwdriver in his mouth as he pulled on the cord.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

Kurt flew out the door, and it smacked against the wall outside with such force he didn't question the fact the cheap shingles were probably broken. The man immediately followed, slamming the door shut and pointing his screwdriver at it with the hand the cord was still wrapped around.

"Halloween costume?" He asked questioningly.

"Yes!" Kurt said breathlessly as the man retracted from the door. "Now what's going on?" He shouted.

"You _pretended _to be a police man?" He argued, running away and into the yard.

"You broke into my house!" Kurt shouted over him, flicking his head back so his bangs wouldn't fall in front of his face as he ran behind him. Even the best of hairspray wasn't reliable under this much stress and physical activity. "What's going on?" He repeated before he could once again change the subject. "Just tell me!"

Kurt stopped short when the man stopped at the huge blue police box. Kurt felt himself drowning in the unnecessary and unreal nostalgia. "Tell me." Kurt demanded, losing his attitude, standing still a few feet away from the man and his box.

"An escaped prisoner had been hiding in your spare room disguised as a man and a dog and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house. Anymore questions?" He explained hastily and annoyed, turning to the door of the police box.

"Yes!" Kurt shouted, frustrated as he pulled at his hair.

"Me too." He muttered.

See- there was two reasons why Kurt wanted to strangle this man right now. One: so this guy just walked about into Kurt's life when he was _six, _left him curious and lonely for twelve years, and _boom- _calmly strays right back in? What kind of _jerk _did that? Two: And then, after all that, he left six million questions to be asked and he didn't even _know_ the answer? Did he just expect Kurt to be _okay _with that? He could barely stand the weekly gap between each _Grey's Anatomy, _how was he supposed to withstand _this? _

The man pulled at the door on the box to no avail, shouting, "No, no, no!" as he did so. Kurt just blinked a few times. He was starting to strongly dislike whatever happened after this man was so upset he felt the need to repeat himself. First a slimy blue worm that turns into a man/dog, now what?

"Don't do that! Not now!" He shouted, slapping the metal door with his hand. "It's still rebuilding, not letting us in," He complained.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

Kurt flinched when he heard the dog barks from behind him. He turned around before his brain could convince him that he really didn't want to do that, and instantly regretted doing so. The man and the dog stood side by side in Finn's window, the man still barking while the dog remained silent.

Kurt grabbed the man by his shoulders, pulling him away from the box. "Come on," Kurt shouted over the booming, _"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated," _and ran.

"Wait!" The man complained, his feet not moving as Kurt pulled on his cord-clad wrist with every muscle in his body, even if the majority lingered of it was in his brain and were only concerned about pop culture and fashion. "Hang on! Wait!"

The man escaped Kurt's uneasy grip without struggling for long, and pointed to the tree stump sitting near the box. "What happened to that tree?" He shouted like it was the worst thing in the world. Kurt watched him flail his arms around, one draped with a heavy cord, "There was a huge tree when I left! With a tree house and branches and _leaves! _I destroyed it, wrecked all the branches and the house on top!"

"It got cut down!" Kurt shouted, frustrated. "Now let's go!"

"Yes, but it's been cut down so long! It had to have been ten years, ten years at the _least!" _He babbled, and while throwing his arms about, the cord finally wiggled off his wrist, flying into the ground, but he didn't flinch, if he noticed at all.

He examined the remains of the tree for a moment, bobbing his head sideways before he stood back up and faced Kurt, who was looking a tad pale. "Twelve years!" He exclaimed. "I'm not six months late, I'm twelve years late."

"He's _coming,_" Kurt urged. He wanted to get out of here. He didn't want to address this with this stupid dream-crushing _fantasy. _

"You said six months, why did you say six months?" He interrogated, leaning in closer on Kurt until he had to bend back.

"We've _got _to go," Kurt hissed, but it came out gentle and breathless, which was far from the effect he was looking for.

"This matters! This is important!" He scolded, taking a step forward as Kurt stumbled back. "So why did you say six months?"

Kurt broke, leaning back in on him so he had to bend back this time. He shouted, much louder the necessary and much less polite then what should have been. He was so angry, so _crushed. _This man had just _disappeared, _neglected Kurt's own existence for years, painful, stressful, long years. In those years, he discovered what it was to be alone. This man was possibly the only thing that had kept Kurt from imploding. This man had been his hope.

_"Why did you say five minutes?" _

What kind of hope destroyed you like that?


	3. Eleventh hour part three MaeEmma's

"Why did you say five minutes?" Kurt shouted accusingly, tears welling up in his eyes.

_"What?"_ The man whispered to himself, staring at Kurt as his face fell in perfect harmony as Kurt's. Kurt had felt nauseous just by saying the words aloud.

"Come on." Kurt whispered, trying to blink shut his always-too-wide eyes and change the subject.

_"What?" _He repeated, simply eyeing over Kurt like he was some anomaly of human kind. The worst part, though, was that Kurt was used to that look. This one was much gentler, more thoughtful, but after years of abuse Kurt couldn't stand questioning.

"Come on," Kurt said, crossing his arms across his chest as he eyed the pebbles on the ground beneath his feet. "We have to go."

"Just- _what?_"

Kurt's patience wasn't long, and it wasn't a secret. He grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling him out of the yard, running. The man didn't protest, he simply followed.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

They made it to the street, Kurt promising himself not to look back at the barking he heard behind him. His mind was on overload, and every time his thoughts rang true he felt like he couldn't bare it much longer before he simply passed out.

They darted down the street, covered in pastel houses and corroding picket fences that desperately needed to be painted. The man ran without Kurt pulling him by the time they left the driveway, but he stopped by the end of the short street. The sound of cars flying by on the main street was annoying, but the man found no problem screaming over it.

"You're Delilah." He accused.

"Don't call me that. That's not my name." Kurt hissed, walking in front of him. He could just run away, but his thighs were starting to protest already. He was forced to stretch and whatnot daily in order to maintain the size and shape that was Kurt Hummel, but never was he forced to run with stress and confusion picking at his brain while he screamed at a man who he was still considering to be his imagination.

"Delilah Bell! You're just a little boy!" He insisted, keeping pace with Kurt.

"Not anymore." Kurt said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest again now that he could.

"What happened?" He asked like he didn't know what _aging _was.

"Twelve years." Kurt replied, not turning to look at him. "That's what happened."

"You hit me with a baseball bat." He stated.

"Twelve years." Kurt answered, as though that made them even. "Twelve years and this goddamn _traumatic_ childhood."

"Traumatic childhood?" He questioned.

"Boys." Kurt answered, balling his hands into fists, trying to convince himself he was too strong to cry right now. "They made fun of me _every_ waking moment."

"Why?"

Kurt turned to him, his face sorrowful, almost depressing as his mesmerizing teal eyes gleamed, damp with tears he was holding back. The confusion and painful nostalgia was clearly shown of that porcelain, small face. "Because you don't exist. They knew that, and unfortunately, I was too stubborn to get it in my head you're not real."

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

Kurt glanced around for the familiar phrase he thought he'd escaped, his train of thought breaking with the loud, shrill squeal of the electronic sound equipment that followed the familiar, monotonic phrase. He glared at the man in the ice cream truck parked across the street in some old, neglected park, feeling fear as he watched the innocent lemon yellow speakers emit the same, horrific sentence. How was it following him? Didn't that only happen in horror movies?

Was Kurt _living _a horror movie?

It seemed so.

The teenage boy looked bored as he lounged inside the ice cream truck decorated with posters of treats, but the pudgy boy with too much acne's look of dazed boredom turned to confusion as he smacked the speakers in a not-so effective way.

"Oh, no, oh no, no." Kurt whimpered, his eyes growing wide and his face growing distressed as he ran a helpless hand through his hair, completely oblivious to how he was ruining the hour he spent on it this morning. His hand felt stale as the hairspray rubbed off, but he didn't notice as he found himself clinging onto the man's tattered blue shirt, trying to inch behind him to out something between him and the ice cream truck.

Kurt's feet didn't move as the shirt he was ever-so-desperately clinging to jerk away as man frantically ran to the ice cream truck. Kurt crossed his arms tightly over his chest, looking around as anxiety drowned out all coherent thoughts and his breaths came in little fear-induced shudders.

Pictures of the blue snake-thing, or _whatever _that was, flashed through his brain, its huge mouth expanding as yellowing, long and slender fangs were revealed, hissing angrily at Kurt as he wearily stood before it. The memory was to crystal clear, and it made Kurt extremely nauseous just thinking about it, and felt like he was going to pass out when his horrid mind took it a step further, and in his head, he saw that snake with its glimmering, slimy skin twisting its way around his neck, its razor-sharp fangs sinking their way into his soft skull, through the mat of brown, stiff hair.

Kurt felt a hot tear run down his face. He couldn't shake the grotesque fantasy, and desperately needed to sit down.

"What's that? Why are you playing that?" Kurt heard the man shout at the teenager. The words reached his brain with a burning sensation, even though they posed no threat, only trying to help him. The words weren't even directed at him.

Kurt had closed his eyes to block the glaring sun, only adding to his lightheadedness. He tried to even out his breaths, focusing only on the conversation a few feet away. He heard the teenager's defense in his puberty-confused husky voice, "It's not _supposed _to be playing that! It's the stupid radio!"

Kurt could still hear the dim, _"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated," _coming from the speakers that had been only slightly hushed. Kurt pulled himself together, and all was just well until-

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

Kurt spun behind him, his eyes open again as he looked, open-mouthed, to the woman behind him in jogging gear, smacking her cell phone impatiently against her thigh as it blared the message at top volume. Kurt felt the panic he'd almost doused rise uncomfortably in his chest.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated." _

Kurt spun around again, watching a woman play with her phone, confused, as she held it up to her ear.

"Doctor," Kurt said, stumbling over the name as he found this the only thing he knew his as, _The Doctor. _"What's going on?"

The man, The _Doctor, _ran away, not bothering to answer Kurt's question. He was just like a dog, wasn't he? Ran away, ignoring him, every chance he got.

Kurt looked about, hesitating for a moment before he followed him, jogging after him. The Doctor jumped over bushes and fences, leading to Kurt's annoyance as he took the time to step over them.

The Doctor took no modestly as he allowed himself to crash through the house, opening the sliding door on the back porch and allowing himself into the living room. Kurt ran up the back porch after him, preparing himself to scold him like he'd scold Finn on his obsession with flannel.

"Hello! Sorry to burst in, we're doing a special on television faults in this area." The Doctor lied quickly, stumbling over a pizza box on the floor and landing with his foot in it. He gave an innocent grin, scraping his foot of tomato sauce on the dirty, shaggy blue rug. Kurt cringed at the sight, carefully avoiding all strewn laundry and looked at the petrified woman with an innocent expression similar to that of the man standing next to him.

The Doctor looked at Kurt's police uniform for a moment, and added, "Also crimes."

The scrawny woman, who'd earlier been standing in front of the television set, flicking through channels, backed up against the ugly blue walls, waving her remote at them threateningly, "Stay away! My son has a gun and I know how to use it!"

The Doctor sighed, looking behind the distressed woman, to the TV. Kurt looked at it, too, swallowing the lump of fear in his throat as a single blue eye looked about the screen on the cheap set, frantically repeating the same thing he'd heard far too many times today. Kurt recognized that eye, though, from a thousand nightmares that lived on from when he was six to today. His eyes strayed the water-stained ceiling, trying to block out the memories or painful illusions from his nightmares.

"He's a policeman, ma'am," The Doctor reminded helpfully, elbowing Kurt. Kurt gave a halfhearted smile, but his eyes were still glued to the corner of the ceiling. "He won't hurt you. And we'll pretend we never heard what you just said.

"But anyway!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Your television set."

"I- I was just about to call the company," She stuttered nervously as The Doctor took the remote, nodding as he flipped through the channels, to no avail. "It's on every channel."

"Kurt?" She suddenly whispered in Kurt's direction, her voice growing accusing as she pointed as she pointed a terribly-manicured finger at him. "You're not a police man! You can't be! You're Kurt Hummel, you're only a freshman!"

"A senior, actually," Kurt corrected, annoyed. He was about to ask her how she knew him- his role in Glee club never made him famous, or anything like that- before The Doctor cut him off.

"Kurt? Who's _Kurt?_" He spat, over annunciating the single syllable in disgust, leaning away from the TV as though he hated such a name.

"My name," Kurt spat back.

"No, your name is Delilah. Delilah Bell." He corrected.

"_No," _Kurt hissed, his mind flooding with memories of cruel boys from elementary school. "It's not. Don't call me that. It's a girl's name. Now that I'm not _six _anymore, that's offensive."

"Why would that be offensive?" The Doctor asked, turning all the way to Kurt, the woman looking between them, confused. "Delilah is a beautiful name, boy or girl." He pointed out.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you noticed? The too-perfect hair? The high voice? Hell, when I was six I think I still played with Barbie dolls. You haven't even come to any conclusions? Seriously, throw any judgments at me, they're probably right. I'm a walking stereotype."

"No, why would I- _what?" _He asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion. He looked innocent, thoughtful, and for a moment, Kurt didn't want to ruin it with the truth, but that feeling didn't last long.

"I'm gay!" Kurt shouted, frustrated, his hands flying in the air. The woman backed up uncomfortably, but neither The Doctor nor Kurt even acknowledged her presence.

The Doctor nodded. "Okay. You're gay." He said, simply stating it, and sounded like he was waiting for more.

"Yes, I am." Kurt agreed, slowly nodding like he was trying to explain this to an unintelligent child. Or Brittany.

"I really still don't get it. And I'm not one who often can't catch on." He explained, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Kurt looked at him, possibly more confused than when he'd materialized out of this air when he was little. He certainty hadn't seemed this naïve.

"I'm gay. You know what that means, right? Not like, 'I'm happy.' Like, I like boys. As in _like-like _if we want to put it that way." Kurt said. This really was worse than when he was trying to console Brittany as to the magic fairies in Tinkerbelle couldn't kill her because they weren't real.

"Yes, I know."

"Okay, and Delilah is a girl's name."

"So I've heard. From you. Just five minutes ago."

"Well, I'm not a girl, am I?"

"No. But Delilah is a beautiful name. I don't understand why you don't still go by it."

"I'm not a girl. It had come to my understanding this was clear to you after you addressed me as a 'policeman.'"

"I understand you are male. I understand you're gay. Know could you just get on with it? This is only going in circles, and I do _not _have positive feelings towards circles. Those little never-ending monstrosities."

Kurt sighed, frustrated. "So because I'm a gay male, people call me a girl, some other offensive terms, but I have certainty been referred to as a girl before. It's offending. And so, Delilah is a girl's name. So you calling me Delilah is like calling me a girl. Ultimately, it's offending."

The Doctor eyed him curiously. "I really don't understand this entire difference between 'girl's names' and 'boy's names.' Delilah is just a _name. _You humans are so picky, it's a beautiful name, and I'm not trying to offend anyone when I say the name Delilah suits you… _Kurt._" He said, saying the final word with disgust.

Kurt's cheeks flushed. He was so accepting and… _Frankly, it's a beautiful name, and I'm not trying to offend anyone when I say the name Delilah suits you. _Did that mean he thought… you know, Kurt was beautiful? Kurt wasn't used to acceptance, and certainty not being called _beautiful. _Kurt's eyes wandered the man, and the question of his sexuality was planted into his head and wasn't quite ready to come out any time soon. Did calling someone beautiful count as flirting?

"Oi!" The woman interrupted, pushing her greasy, oil black, unkempt pixie cut back with her hand. "Boy, your sexuality is great and all, but I just want to know what's wrong with my damn television if you don't mind."

"Mom!" A voice yelled from down the hallway. Kurt's breath caught as he realized why this woman knew his name. It was even worse when his step-brother's location was clarified as he followed the mohawked boy down the hallway. "What the hell are you screaming- _Kurt?"_

Kurt gave a halfhearted smile, giving a small wave with his fingers. "Hi, Puck." He mumbled. "So this is… your house… uh, nice, uh, nice… uhm…" Kurt's eyes darted around the cluttered mess as he desperately looked for something that could he could compliment. "Nice… mother?" He offered, not that he found Puck's mother, her attitude, or her baggy shirt that resembled a potato sack nice at all.

"What the hell are you doing in my house? And- _God, _why are you dressed as a police man?" He demanded. Finn followed the boy, a shiny black laptop held protectively across his chest. His mouth hung open at an awkward angle. Kurt suspected it not to be out of surprise at his random whereabouts similar to his, or rather that Finn was shocked by the outfit that Kurt desperately wished he'd covered up. Even Finn, the God of Plaid and Flannel, was disgusted by the fashion disaster.

"It's, uh… long story." Kurt offered with a shrug.

"I- uh, wow, okay, and I'm sure I don't want to know. Who's that guy?" Puck said, gesturing to The Doctor, who had occupied with flipping through channels on the cheap, old radio on the bookcase mostly filled with stray papers and old used paper plates.

"That," Kurt said, looking behind him, "Would be… uhm…" Kurt wondered if he really should address him as _The Doctor. _Even if that was what he went by, it sounded awkward and a tad clichéd.

"The Doctor." He answered for Kurt, not looking away from his radio.

"Wanky." Puck said, grinning as Kurt's face grew scarlet. "Is that, like, a gay thing?"

"Puck," Kurt hissed, "You can make anything sound perverted."

"What kind of name is 'The Doctor'?" Finn wondered aloud.

"The good kind," The Doctor responded blankly, not looking away from the radio that he fiddled with.

"Wait a sec-" Finn said. "That… that story you wrote that Mom made me read to support you or whatever-" Finn started, and catching the look of offence on Kurt's face, he excused himself with, "I mean, Kurt, it was, like, _nine _pages, and had a really tiny font. But anyway, I thought… didn't you… oh my God! That's The Doctor! What did you call it, ahh...? The Raggedy Doctor! And it even make sense, his shirt is all screwed up and torn! In the story you said he called himself the- wait, how is that possible? This is real life," He argued with himself.

"I… uh… don't know what you're talking about." Kurt mumbled. Of course, he knew what Finn meant, but in all honesty, even Kurt wasn't quite sure what was really going on.

"He is!" Finn continued, "And in History last week… I saw you doodling him in your notebook and you got the hair all right and- wait- oh my God- so he's real… and you were _doodling _him in your notebook- what the hell, Kurt? Are you, like, cheating on Blaine or something? I mean, I can't say I haven't cheated on anyone before- but, I mean, Kurt, that's not _you-"_ He continued, and Kurt interrupted him.

"Finn! Stop jumping to whatever conclusions you're making, and Puck, wipe that stupid grin off your face or I'll smack it off!" Kurt snapped, and Puck's smug grin fell immediately. "We're not doing- I mean, _God! _I am not cheating on anybody and-"

"I totally approve if you two are getting your naughty, dirty gay sex on." Puck said, regaining his smug grin. "I mean, anybody who calls themselves 'The Doctor' ought to know what they're doing when it comes to-"

Kurt's face was possibly redder then what effect you could get if you smothered that pale face in ketchup. "Stop it, Puck!" He screamed over him.

"You were a little boy five minutes ago." The Doctor chimed in, a look of disgust on his face, looking to Kurt with his burning cheeks. Neither Puck nor Finn knew what to make of this, just fell silent and confused as Kurt dumbly replied, "You're worse than my father."

"I'm worse than everyone's father!" He shot, angrily. The room fell silent for a moment, everyone but Kurt with their jaw hanging open, whereas Kurt just looked for a clever comeback behind his deep scarlet face.

"And that is _not _how I'm introducing myself." He said, directing it too Puck and Finn as he gestured to them with his screwdriver, the top flickering blue light.

"Ohh-kay." Puck muttered, breaking the dense awkwardness. "I can't say I'm not a little confused right now, but whatever."

"Five minutes?" Finn asked.

"It's a figure of speech." Kurt said, even though the man had probably meant it quite literally.

"He's, like, five years older than you, Kurt, tops." Puck clarified. "That's just weird. And anyway, you shouldn't let your boyfriend boss you around like that. Take charge, like a man, woman!"

"He's _not _my-"

_"Shh!" _The Doctor hissed, and Kurt's mouth shut mid-defense. Puck's mom inched towards her son, as though she was terrified by the strange man that had broken into her house. Of course, that sort of reaction was to be expected.

_"Prisonnier Zéro quitter la résidence de l'homme ou de la résidence de l'homme seront incinérés."_

Kurt, being fluent in French, instantly recognized the phrase as what he'd been hearing all day, the translation made clear in his head. "Again?" He whispered wearily.

"Okay, so it's everywhere, in every language. They're broadcasting to the whole world." The Doctor said, silence falling in the room. Puck and Finn looked at each other, both of them raising eyebrows in question.

"Who are _they?_" Kurt asked, but was ignored as the man swung open the sliding glass door, sticking his head out as he looked to the sky.

"What's up there? What are you looking for?" Kurt continued to interrogate him, left ignored.

The Doctor pulled away from the sliding door, leaving it open as he paced back and forth about the room, talking to himself as he ran a hand through his brown hair. "Okay. Nothing but two poles, your basic molten core..." He muttered to himself, his words barely audible to Kurt.

He stood in front of Finn, only an inch away as he examined him, continuing to talk. "First, I'll be assuming they're sending a medium sized starship… that's twenty minutes. What do you think, twenty minutes?"

Finn stood still, his mouth hanging awkwardly open as The Doctor stood on his toes in order to get a good look at Frankinteen and his height that compared to Mount Everest. "Na- nothing you're saying is making any sense." Finn stuttered.

"Yeah, twenty minutes. We've got twenty minutes." He agreed, as though Finn had just stated it so himself.

"Twenty minutes to _what?_" Kurt shouted, frustrated with being ignored.

"I'm just really confused, Kurt… I mean, you made up that story, right? And Burt showed my these cartoons you drew of him when you were, like, _three_, and-"

The Doctor eyed Kurt, and the extravagant color show on Kurt's face began again before The Doctor asked, "Cartoons?"

"Shut up," Kurt hissed at Finn, who obeyed.

The Doctor threw himself on a ratty armchair with soda stains. He stared at the TV almost dreamily, seeming to be deep in thought.

"Noah," The ignored woman that was Puck's mom made herself known again, "Does that boy need medication or something? The tall one who's calling himself The Doctor? Because I don't want him in my house if he's going to go all lunatic on-"

"Mom, shut up, and just go make yourself a freaking pie or something," He jeered at his mother. She looked offended, but walked off with an unconfident limp in her strut.

"Twenty minutes to what, again?" Kurt asked, dismissing Puck and his mother, and the Finn who stood awkwardly, looking like he was torn between sitting on the couch awkwardly next to this strange man or continuing to stand awkwardly.

"The human residence, they're not talking about your house, they're talking about the planet. Somewhere out there, there's a spaceship, and it's going to incinerate the planet." He announced.

"Isn't that a little dramatic? Like, Star Wars dramatic? Possibly a little… not real?" Finn offered, but he was left ignored by The Doctor. Kurt shot him a look. If that boy knew half of what Kurt had just discovered was actually possible today, he wouldn't be asking that question.

"Twenty minutes till the end of the world."

"What _is _this place?" The Doctor complained, walking down the street with a look of disgust, particularly at the dead squirrel in the road they walked over.

"Lima, Ohio." Kurt replied dryly, walking quickly down the street, sarcasm able to find him in even the biggest time of crisis, "A magical land of high school drop-outs and bullying infestations."

"Is there an airport?" He asked, turning the corner of the street until they were walking the sidewalk by a strip mall.

"No." Kurt answered. "Or at least not in a thirty mile radius."

"A nuclear power station?"

"Not since the early eighties, I believe."

"Near a city?"

"Yes, I'd give it twenty minutes by car."

"Do we have a car?"

"Not when my dad is using it."

"Well, that's _great_." He groaned sarcastically, "That gives us twenty minutes to save the world and I've got a McDonald's-" He complained, gesturing to the run down store across the street, "And it's closed!"

Kurt watched him fume. He looked to the clear sky, avoiding eye contact as his brain, again, began to wander the situation.

_So I haven't woken up yet… does this mean he's real? _

"What is that?" The Doctor shouted, snapping Kurt from his train of thought. He ran across the empty street, pointing accusingly at the corroding stone birdbath outside a Goodwill. "What is _that?_"

"A birdbath?" Kurt answered as though it was a trick question.

"Then where are all the birds?" He demanded.

Kurt eyed the birdbath. It was half full of dirty gray water, a glob of pink gum partly submerged. "I don't know, there are never any birds in it."

"Then how do you know it's a bird bath?" He exclaimed.

"It just is!" Kurt shouted back. "Is it important if it's a bird bath?"

"I don't know? Why would I know?" He defended. Kurt watched him suspiciously as he fell over, holding his chest as he tried to control the spasm in his arm, holding it to his leg.

"No, this is too soon, I'm not ready, I'm not done yet." He said to himself. Was this man insane? He'd seemed… just odd, but now Kurt was seriously concerned.

Suddenly, the sky darkened like someone had dimmed the lights. Kurt looked up, expecting to see a storm cloud rolling over the sun, but instead saw nothing extremely out of the ordinary as his vision turned blurry and purple-tinted from staring at the sun. "What's happening? Why's it going dark?"

It only lasted a moment before the light hit again. Kurt felt the panic fade away a bit until he looked at the new sun, almost brighter, bigger. Like someone had made it look close-up. You could easily see the flames on the bright orange mass illuminating everything. "What's wrong with the sun?" Kurt asked, frightened.

"Nothing." He explained, picking himself up from the ground, brushing his pants off as though he _hadn't _just fallen to the ground in a violent spasm. "You're looking at it through a force field. They've shielded off your upper atmosphere, now they're getting ready to boil the planet."

Kurt spun to look at the man to see if he was serious, Kurt's jaw wide open in disbelief. The Doctor dismissed it, chuckling at the people walking out of the strip mall, pointing at them for Kurt.

"Ah, and here they are. The human race. See, when the end comes, as it always going to, it will all go down on _video phone._" He spat, almost frustrated with the lack of intelligence.

Kurt found himself wondering out loud. "This isn't real, is it? You're imaginary. I'm dreaming. The world isn't going to end. I mean, you're just kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid about this?" He asked, looking sincere at Kurt's worry.

"Well, you told me you had a time machine…" Kurt whimpered.

"And you believed me."

"Exactly." Kurt said, running a worried hand through his stiff, styled hair. "But now, I've grown up and-"

"Oh, you never want to do that." He interrupted, shaking his head in disappointment. "Oh! Wait! Shut up!" He shouted, smacking himself in the forehead, leaving Kurt to question it. "I missed it! What did I see- what did I see…" He trailed off, and Kurt stepped back a cautious step.

The Doctor was silent for a moment, staring off into some sort of space. Kurt was ready to interrupt him when he turned around.

"Twenty minutes." The Doctor stated. "I can do it. Twenty minutes- the planet _burns. _Run to your loved ones and say goodbye, or stay and help me." He offered.

Kurt stared at him blankly. He didn't even think before he spoke. "No."

"I- I'm sorry- what?" He asked.

_"Delilah! Delilah! Delilah Bell!" The boy sung, pushing Kurt, hard. _

_Another boy laughed, catching Kurt. "Where's The Raggedy Doctor, now, Kurt? The Raggedy Doctor and his big blue box?" He shouted, tossing Kurt back the other boy like they were playing pass. _

_"Stop!" Kurt shouted, but he was ignored. He tried to steady his feet for a moment, but he was pushed again. "Stop, please!" _

What? Was Kurt supposed to just take that offer, after _everything_ he'd gone through? Because of _him? _Every five minutes that passed reminded him of hell, all because of _him. _This man, this "Doctor" in his rags, his smug smile and he was so annoyingly _sure _of himself, like he thought Kurt couldn't pass up the opportunity to see him again.

_"We know you had a crush on him, Kurtsie. We know you thought he was hot, hot, hot, and know you're just upset because you can't ever see him again." The boy accused, laughing as he pushed him again. Kurt squeezed his eyes closed, trying to hide tears. _

_"And we know he's never coming back, is he, Delilah. You know why he's never coming back?" Another asked, taking his turn to shove. _

_"Why, Dave?" The boy asked for Kurt, sounding smug, taking his push. _

_"Because nobody comes back to see a stupid fag." _

"No, no, no." Kurt said, shaking his head as he bit his lip, fighting tears. This man- he was just- who did he think he _was?_

_"Please!" Kurt cried, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. "It hurts! Stop!" _

_"Don't you get it, Delilah?" The boy asked, shoving Kurt with more force than before, "That's the point!" _

_The other boy didn't catch him this time, so he fell to the ground, his head hitting a stone of the ground. Kurt felt pain surge through his body, and he shuddered. The heartless boys only laughed. _

_"My daddy says the faggots should die." _

Kurt stifled his tears, trying so hard to make them go away. Kurt had thought he would take him away. Kurt had thought he'd never have to see another mean boy again. This man had tricked him into thinking it all might be okay for a while.

_"I agree." The boy said, slapping hands with the other as they walked away, leaving Kurt to his tears and the dirt on the ground. _

But he had lied. Because it would never be okay.

Kurt pressed a finger into the man's chest, shouting, "No!" Tears broke, streaming down his face as he screamed at him, stepping forward as he stepped back, "Never, you damn idiot! You have no idea what you did to me! You have no idea how much it _hurt, _you freaking _idiot._"

"What- what did I-" He started questioning, but Kurt cut him off, swallowing his tears as he tried to put on a brave face.

"Who are you?" Kurt hissed, his finger still jabbed into the taller man's chest.

"You know who I am. I'm The Doctor."

"No, really, who are you?" Kurt demanded. "A name, something, anything. Tell me."

"Look at us here!" The Doctor shot, "Must I remind you the end of the world is in twenty minutes?"

"You better start talking, then!" Kurt shouted over him.

The man paused for a moment. Kurt wished he knew the thoughts streaming through his head. He was so awfully confusing.

Kurt slowly pulled his finger away, not taking his eyes of the man like he might run away. The Doctor shoved his hand in his pocket for a moment, and Kurt's jaw unwillingly dropped when he saw it.

It was only slightly browning on the very edges of the eyes and the smile, but the rest of the apple was fine, as though age hadn't touched it. The Doctor picked up Kurt's hand, holding it out for him as he dropped the apple in it.

"I'm a time traveler." He whispered, sincere. "Everything I told you twelve years ago was true. _I'm real, _Kurt, and what's happening in the sky is real. Now, if we don't go right now, everything you've ever loved is over."

"I don't believe you." Kurt breathed, struggling to get the words out is mouth. "None of this is possible."

The Doctor squeezed Kurt's thin wrists. "Just for twenty minutes. Believe me for twenty minutes." He begged. He noticed Kurt's eyes focused on the apple. "Look at it, fresh as the day you give it to me. And you _know _it's the same one."

Kurt stared into his soft, promising green eyes, finding himself lost in them. They held so much: more than just sincerity. Some sort of understanding, of empathy.

Almost like he knew what it was like to be alone, too.

Kurt stared back and forth, between the smiling apple and the man's promising green eyes. He was torn. Torn between reality and fantasy. He preferred fantasy, of course he did. But he just didn't know if he believed in dreams yet.

_"Blaine, this doesn't exist." Kurt reminded. "That story was a dream. All it was, was a dream. Just a dream."_

_"I resent that, Kurt," Blaine said, folding his arms over his chest and raising a thick eyebrow at him. _

_"What do you resent, exactly?" _

_"Dreams come true, Kurt. All the time." Blaine said. He sounded like he was quoting a Disney movie._

_"Really?" Kurt scoffed, "Give me one example." _

_"You." Blaine said, saying the single syllable like it was so much more than that._

_"What? Come on, Blaine, I'm not a dream." Kurt reproached. _

_"You were." Blaine stated, grabbing Kurt's hand and squeezing it. "You don't think I spent every night for years staring at the ceiling, waiting for this beautiful thing to sweep me off my feet, just like you did? You don't think I spent every night praying I could be blessed with you? Do you know how many times I didn't think you existed, Kurt? How I saw the hope and love diminish before my eyes and I thought you and the feeling you give me was just make-believe for hopeless woman with too many cats? But guess what. Turns out, love is for real. Love was a dream. So of course dreams come true. Why can't this man be real? Just because he seems like a fantasy now doesn't mean he always will." _

"Kurt," He said, putting his other hand over Kurt's wrist. "Believe for twenty minutes."

_Kurt threw his arms around Blaine's neck. "That was the most clichéd thing I've ever heard." _

_Blaine smiled. "But do you believe me?" _

_Kurt bit his lip, "I- I don't know. I mean, love is all well, but time-travelers? Don't you think it's just really, really… impossible?" _

"Please," The Doctor begged.

_"Well, you know what? Dreams come true. Nothing is impossible. Blah, blah, blah. Don't believe my beautiful clichés now, but when he comes back, remember this." _

_Kurt sighed. "He's never coming back, Blaine."_

_"You say that now." He said, smirking. "But when he comes back, you won't." _

Kurt took his free hand, wiping tears away from his pick cheeks with his hand. "What do we do?"

"Stop the private school boy." He said, running off, pulling Kurt behind him by the wrist.

Kurt stuck a stupid grin on his face.

_He's back._


	4. Eleventh hour part four MaeEmma's

Blaine knew this was ridiculous. He knew _he_ was ridiculous- if not clinically insane- and he knew his motives were ridiculous. Nobody takes him seriously. Why, though? He was a freaking private school boy with massive amounts of hair gel. Didn't _that _stereotype count for _something_? Like, maybe, intelligence?

It was immensely annoying- a room of comatosed people shouting for a doctor, despite being- oh, I don't know- _comatosed? _Some sort of weird biological anomaly, and yet, the doctor couldn't even be bothered to glance at Blaine's phone. Not for a single second. A single second that would have made him seem a hell of a lot less insane.

He was still taking pictures. He feared people were really going to start dismissing him as a creeper. But even if he knew no one would ever take a second look at these, it was almost like he was reassuring himself the man he saw at the hospital, lying unconscious on a hospital cot, was actually standing a few feet away from him.

But suddenly, his train of thought diminished as he was pushed to the ground, an unidentified man ripping his phone out of his hand. He fell with a distinguishing _thump, _and he knew that he'd get up to discover grass stains on his last good uniform. It was only his luck.

Before Blaine could say anything, the man started talking, gesturing to Blaine with the phone. He sounded like he was giving Blaine some sort of lecture after randomly stealing his phone. It was actually immensely confusing, really. "The sun's going out, and you're photographing a man and a dog. Why?"

Blaine cautiously picked himself off the ground, brushing dirt of his uniform pants without taking his suspicious eyes of the man. When he stood up, he found Kurt right next to him, leading to an uneven gasp.

Was he dreaming? He really needed to _stop _devouring those tempting Red Vines before bed. It had to be getting to him.

He curiously eyed Kurt and his lack of extravagant clothes. More importantly, the police costume that made up for Marc Jacob's latest.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, raising a thick and accusing eyebrow at his sudden, unexpected, and out-of-character appearance.

"Oh, uh, this is Blaine." Kurt said, lamely smiling at the man who was fidgeting with Blaine's phone. "A… friend."

"Boyfriend." Blaine corrected. Who was Kurt trying to impress and more importantly, _why?_

"Yeah, that." Kurt said, looking to the sky awkwardly, even if he was the only one experiencing this severe awkwardness. "Whatever."

The man in front of them clapped his hands impatiently to catch their attention. "Come on, man and dog, why?"

"Kurt, what is up with your… uhm… _outfit?_" Blaine asked, inviting himself to pull the plastic badge off Kurt's costume and turn it around in his hands as he smugly smiled at Kurt's embarrassment.

Kurt's cheeks colored and he swatted Blaine's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sorry, but, is that my Halloween costume, Kurt?" Blaine asked, looking greatly amused.

"Maybe." Kurt muttered. "Maybe not."

"Come _on!_" The man shouted, "Man and dog! Why?"

Blaine regarded the man for a quick moment, and he swore he recognized him- the unkempt hair that fell in his face, the torn blue shirt. Something clicked in Blaine's brain, and he gasped.

"Oh my God! Kurt- is that-?" Blaine started.

"_Answer _his _question, _Blaine." Kurt hissed through his teeth.

Blaine laughed. "I'm not imagining this, am I? Is he The Raggedy Doctor? From those stories? Oh my God, this is the most elaborate Red Vine dream I think I've ever had."

Kurt uncomfortably rubbed his neck, looking away, trying to avoid eye contact with The Doctor. Kurt didn't question Blaine's comment about the Red Vines, Blaine tended to make weird statements like that when he let his mask of dapper melt away.

"Uhm, yeah. He came back."

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted excitedly. "I told you so!"

Kurt turned to glare at him. "Thanks." He muttered sarcastically.

Blaine dismissed Kurt's glares. "Is he like, magic, still? Okay, that sounded stupid. But you know what I mean."

"Blaine," Kurt started, "I really-"

"Man and dog!" The man shouted, grabbing Blaine by the collar of his Dalton uniform, pulling the shorter boy up so he was on his toes. "Why?"

"Because he can't be there," Blaine explained hastily, "Because he's-

"In a hospital," They both said at the same time, "In a coma."

"Uh, yeah. That." Blaine mumbled nervously.

The man dropped his collar, straightening it out as he shook his head, talking to himself. "Knew it. Multiform, you see. Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a life feed, a physic link with a living, but dormant, mind."

"I…" Blaine mumbled, at a loss for words as he turned to Kurt. "Was- was that supposed to make sense?"

Kurt squeezed his forearm, sympathetic for his confusion. "It's okay. He's been doing that quite a bit."

Kurt's grip on Blaine's forearm suddenly grew much stronger the second there was a dog bark from behind them. Blaine wondered what was making him so unrealistically jumpy, it was _just _a dog.

Blaine took that thought back immediately when he saw it. Blaine didn't shake off the boy clutching his forearm for dear life, even though the boy was practically cutting off his circulation with his freakishly sharp nails. Blaine watched the supposedly comatosed man he recognized all to dangerously well bark at them, grinding his teeth and hissing as the dog sat by his side, innocent and uninterested.

The Doctor scoffed, turning around and facing the man and his dog like one might do in an old western movie. He shoved his hands in his pockets, confident. "Prisoner Zero," He addressed him, staring him down.

"Wait-" Blaine whispered to Kurt, "There's a Prisoner Zero, too?"

Blaine hated to be hypocritical. But right now, he was honestly wondering if this was a dream. Like he was bound to wake up any moment, and in an hour, he'd be laughing about it with Kurt… right?

"Yes." Kurt said grimly.

Blaine stared at the man and his dog. He seemed so normal, a sort a mechanic-looking man with a stubborn, wrinkled face hanging onto the leash of a somewhat bored-looking dog. Then he started barking and it was all just unreal.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, nudging Blaine with his elbow. Blaine followed Kurt's eyes to where they stared fearsomely at the sky, and suddenly, his breath caught.

_Too many Red Vines… God, Blaine, never, ever eat those things again._

It was like a giant snowflake in the sky, a huge, metal ship, glimmering in the light of the demented sun. It was rather lovely, all except with the looming feeling of something out of place- and of course, the huge, moving blue eye in the dead center of the thing, scoping the ground with a pale white skylight of sorts.

"See, that ship up there is scanning the area for non-terrestrial technology," The Doctor said, facing off with the man/dog. "And _nothing _says non-terrestrial like a sonic screwdriver."

The Doctor proudly aimed the lit screwdriver at the sky, immediately leading to street lamps on the corner of the street exploding into a mess of yellow sparks, like fireworks, and car alarms frantically going off. The ominous peace of the park turned dramatically into a field of raucous and screaming citizens with that simple notion. Kurt made a tiny screech, burring his face into the shorter boy's uniform-clad shoulder, and Blaine squeezed the boy's shoulder in support, pretending like he wasn't as freaked as Kurt was.

"I think someone's gonna notice," The Doctor stated, shouting over the chaos. All Blaine could see was the man growling in frustration, his teeth furiously mashed as though the ship in the sky was posing the threat that was to be naively assumed. "Don't you?"

The man barked. Blaine felt a violent shiver up his spine.

The Doctor smirked, tilting his hand, intentional or not was to be considered, until the screwdriver was directed to a phone box, which erupted into a plume of energetic sparks, causing Kurt to flinch unnaturally quick, looking up from Blaine's shoulder and biting down dangerously hard on his lip.

The screwdriver itself turned to sparks in a moment, The Doctor cringing as these sparks sweetly landed on his baby blue shirt. He dropped the screwdriver, or rather, threw it to the ground. Kurt and Blaine backed up, dodging sparks.

"No, no, no, _no!" _He shouted, kneeling on the ground as he turned the burnt stick of metal around in his hand, smacking it into the ground. "No, don't _do that!_"

Kurt cautiously let go of Blaine's hand, nearing the man, his head turning in circles as he tried to watch the Doctor and the ship leave at the skies.

"No, come back, he's here!" The Doctor screamed, throwing his hands in the air. Blaine bit his tongue, not because he was trying to hold back any words. Just because he figured if he sparked blood, he'd wake up. "Come back! He's here! _Prisoner Zero is here!_" He shouted, frustrated.

Kurt was occupied with consoling The Doctor, leaving Blaine to glare. His breath caught as the man with the dog smiled, a sort of devious smile you only saw in horror movies. Like a Freddy Kruger kind of smirk, taunting Blaine so he'd walk in for the kill…

Blaine gripped his mop of gelled curls, looking away as he bit down harder on his tongue. Pain ceased to exist when he needed it most.

The Doctor was still shouting words, but they didn't really have any meaning anymore, just a jumbled mess of frustrated syllables.

Blaine wished he never turned around. He knew he'd never forget what he saw right then.

If he'd saw it in a movie, he would have laughed and dismissed it as bad animation. But it was _real. _Ten feet away from him, the man and his dog fell into a million pieces, disappearing into a mist of color and falling down the sewer grate with the wind.

"K-Kurt?" He shouted, wagging his finger at whatever he just witnessed, "Kurt d-did you see that?"

"See what?" Kurt asked, looking to Blaine's fearful face.

"It- it melted… it just melted and went down the drain," Blaine whispered.

The Doctor looked at Blaine, dropping his hands to his sides in sheer frustration. "Well, of course it did!"

"What do we do now?" Kurt shouted.

"It's hiding in human form, we need to drive it into the open… no Tardis, no screwdriver…" He contemplated, looking a tad defeated. "Seventeen minutes… _come on… _think_, think!_"

Kurt backed away, letting The Doctor think as he said he needed to. He squeezed Blaine's shoulder, who was nearly paralyzed in his confusion, and most likely a good deal of fear.

Blaine unconsciously neared the grate, and Kurt followed, squeezing the boy's hand in comfort.

Kurt let his fingers run across the susceptibly dirty grate. He looked back to The Doctor.

"So, that thing…" He asked, "That thing, it hid in my house for twelve years?"

"Multiforms can live for millenniums." He stated, expressionless, from behind them. "Twelve years is a pit stop."

"So how come the same day that thing did… the same _minute?_" Kurt asked, accusing.

"They were looking for him, but they followed me, they saw me through the crack I couldn't fix, they're only late 'cause I am." He said, leaving Kurt confused.

"What is he-" Blaine began, before The Doctor cut him off.

"Private school boy, give me your phone back." The Doctor demanded.

"Kurt, how is he real?" Blaine asked, looking at Kurt with the sorrowful look of an upset kindergartener, his eyes wide and confused. "I thought- I thought he was just a story."

"Phone, now! Gimme!" The Doctor repeated, and Blaine handed his phone over to the outstretched hand with no regrets.

"That's not what you said." Kurt accused. "You said you thought he was real."

"Well, I mean… I don't know. It's easier said than done, right?" Blaine mumbled, playing with his fingers. "Is this a prank? Or some sort of test of courage? Because Kurt, I'm scared."

Kurt uncomfortably swallowed. Kurt was supposed to be the one telling Blaine how scared _he _was, not the other way around.

"I don't know, Blaine… I just… I don't." Kurt admitted.

"These photos, their all the coma patients?" The Doctor said, scrolling through the pictures on Blaine's phone, interrupting Kurt and Blaine's "moment."

"Yes," Blaine said halfheartedly.

"No, they're the multiform. Just disguises for Prisoner Zero." The Doctor corrected.

"He had a dog, though, is there a dog in a coma?" Kurt asked, trying to prove this man's theory wrong.

"Well, if the coma patient dreams he has a dog, Prisoner Zero gets a dog." He stated. Then he looked Kurt, gasping at his new wonderful idea. "Laptop!"

"Your friend! What was his name…" The Doctor asked. "Not this one," he said, waving at Blaine, "the good looking one."

"Oh, thanks." Blaine muttered.

"Uhm, Finn?"

"Oh, _thanks,_"

"It was Finn or Puck."

"Oh, you are freaking _kidding._"

"Oh, he had a laptop, this big laptop! I need Finn's laptop!" The Doctor exclaimed. "You two, get to the hospital, get everyone out of there, clear the whole ward, phone me when you're done!"

The Doctor ran off in the other direction before Kurt could ask any questions. He looked to Blaine, who'd seemed to regain his cool.

"Your car, com'mon," Kurt said, pulling on his shoulder.

"But we can't do that! You don't just go to a hospital and tell them to evacuate!" He shouted, but Kurt ran to Blaine's truck, ignoring him. "_Kurt!_"

He figured he had no choice, and ran after the stubborn boy. Kurt pulled him into the car, chanting for him to hurry as he sped down the road to the hospital.

"Puck… I don't know if we should… you know… be doing this…" Finn complained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

"Why?" Puck taunted, "Mommy wouldn't like it?"

"No… it's just… I have a girlfriend…" He protested.

"Yes, you do. I dated Rachel, once, too, you know. I made out with, like, ninety chicks, and she never found out, did she? So looking at a bikini or two isn't gonna kill you. All you ever do is goddamn _worry. _Calm down for a minute, dude, and enjoy what Rachel doesn't have."

Finn's cheeks colored darker as Puck scrolled through the images, and watched Puck laugh, trying to avert his eyes from the computer screen. "Ha! Okay, so I guess that's a little less than a bikini!"

"Ha…" Finn muttered, "Yeah…"

Puck, that looked as though his eyes would have been permanently glued to the computer screen if he hadn't been distracted, suddenly looked up when the door flew open, crashing against the wall.

"Hello! Laptop, gimme!" The man standing under the door shouted, standing dramatically in the door frame before he snatched the computer right out of Puck's hands.

"What the hell?" Puck shouted at the man as he sat on the bed.

"Are we being, like, mugged?" Finn asked, worrisome, backing up against the bedframe.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Puck screamed in frustration, standing up on the bed as he pulled violently on the man's shoulder. The man looked behind him, stopping his pounding on the keyboard, raising an eyebrow that said, _do you really want to do that? _

"Stop that." The man instructed, looking sort of pissed.

"What the hell are you doing? Get out! Give me my goddamn computer!" He screamed, punching the man's back.

"Wait, Puck!" Finn shouted, grabbing Puck so he couldn't further harm the man who'd turned around from the screen again, giving him a questioning look as he mouthed, 'Ow!'

"What?" Puck snapped, pushing Finn off him so Puck's hopeless punching on the man's back turned to a wrestle with Frankinteen.

"Hey!" Finn yelled, pushing Puck back. "That's Kurt's friend, I think! Now stop freaking out!"

Puck stopped, panting a bit as he scanned the man, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "You're right."

"What are you doing?" Finn mumbled, sounding like he was trying to ration with the man as though he was a child.

"The suns gone all weird, so that means, somewhere, right now, there's gonna be a big ol' video conference call." He explained, and glared at the screen a moment more, before adding, "Is this really what teenage boys do together? This is horrifying."

Finn's cheeks flushed.

"All the experts in the world are going to be panicking," he continued, pounding on the laptop keys, opening weird screens on the computed and writing codes that suggested he was hacking something of some sort. Finn had seen it done in movies before. "And do you know what they need?"

The Doctor stared at them, smug, waiting for them to ask, _who?, _but they answered with rapid blinking, trying to keep up with what he was saying so he finished with, "Me."

"Ah!" He exclaimed, pointing to the words on the blue windows on the computer screen. "And here they all are! All the big boys… NASA, Tokyo Space Station, Patrick Moore."

"Who's Patrick Moore?" Finn wondered aloud, and Puck smacked him on the back of his head, despite not translating a word this man was saying, either.

"You can't just hack in on a call like that." Puck accused.

"You can't drive off with an ATM in the back of your truck, either." Finn muttered sarcastically. "I guess we're just _defying gravity _here, aren't we?"

Puck shot him a death glare, but Finn just scoffed and looked away.

Puck stared at the screen, wide-eyed, as an array of faces lit up his computer screen. The man held a badge to the camera, and the various faces nodded on screen. Finn literally gasped, like a little girl.

_"This is a secure call, what are you doing here?" _A man on the computer complained. Puck and Finn glanced at each other- _God, he really did just hack a call on NASA, didn't he? _

"Yeah, I know, you should switch me off," The Doctor said knowingly, "But before you do, watch this."

The Doctor began to pound on keys again. _Isn't this illegal? _

Finn heard something about a theorem. A lot of really big words come out of this man's mouth- and not even stuff like _quantum physics and construction of matter- _a lot of weird words he hadn't even heard his science teacher murmur before. He rambled on for a moment about diagrams and proof about _this and that and this. _In all honesty, Finn just dismissed his ramblings as a foreign language. But then there was something about, "Oh, a goody, why electrons have mass," which Finn could slightly recall from seventh grade science classes he'd mostly slept through, so he must have been speaking English.

It was all very confusing. But it was really okay, because he ended with, "And a _joke!_"

"Look at your screens, wherever you are," He continued, now speaking more legible words that were up for interpretation. "Just look at it, I'm a genius. You know you need all the help you can get. Now, fellas, pay attention."

"Blaine!" Kurt screamed, smashing his palm against the dashboard in anticipation.

_"What?" _Blaine snapped, glaring at the stubborn red lights in front of him. He had no idea what he was doing. He hadn't had coffee this morning. He was still convinced he was dreaming. Overall, he wasn't in the best mood, and the Kurt who'd swallowed a bag of jumping beans somewhere between the park and the car certainly wasn't helping.

"That coat! That ugly brown peacoat you keep in the backseat! I need it!" Kurt shouted.

Blaine jerked the car forward as the light changed, causing both of their heads to slam against the back of the seat. "God, Blaine! You're going to get us killed! Slow down!"

"Okay!" Blaine shouted. "Yes, and, yeah, just go get the coat or whatever."

"Thanks! Thank you so much!" Kurt worshiped, unbuckling as he climbed into the back of the car.

_In the freaking middle of traffic. _

"Why do you need it?" Blaine asked out of curiosity, though, mostly to distract him from the problem at hand. Alien invasions and lost childhood dreams and impatient Kurt's and-

"Blaine! Hurry up, at this pace the world will be over by the time we reach the next turn!"

Neither of them was doing very well at this given moment in time.

Blaine's eyebrows rose dramatically in frustration. He tried to ignore the fact Kurt was crawling around his cramped car, looking for a stupid coat.

"And I need it because I feel like an idiot in this _thing_." Kurt explained, plopping in the back seat of the car as he found the coat under the seat.

"Kurt! You just told me the world is ending in fifteen minutes and you're worried about a goddamn _coat?_" Blaine fumed.

"Sorr-rey." Kurt complained. "I'll give you a kiss of the cheek later, if that's what you want."

The eternal screaming of Blaine droned on.

_"Excuse me, sir, what _are_ you doing?" _A man on the computer screen questioned.

The Doctor lamely looked up from the phone he was rapidly testing on, noting the people on the computer as though he'd just noticed they were there.

"I am writing a computer virus." He stated.

_What? Is this for real? _Puck wondered. _A man… broke into my house with Kurt, a gay guy in Glee who probably checks out my ass when I'm not looking… said some stuff that sounded terribly perverted… ran off… broke in again, alone… looked like he was going to jump me for a minute there… stole my laptop and my sexy ladies… hacked into a private call between NASA and the government… and ripped a cell phone out of his pocket and started writing a computer virus. _

Puck was still waiting for the trolls with blue afros to jump out and start paying his mom's unpaid taxes. Finn looked sort of like he was expecting the same thing, more or less, except he refused to close his mouth, looked like an idiot, and Puck swore he just saw a bug fly right in there.

"Very clever, super-fast, and a tiny bit of lies- and why am I writing it on a phone?" The Doctor continued, asking the questions for them in a sort of arrogant way. "You'll find out!

"Okay, I'm sending this to all your computers. Get everyone who works for you sending this everywhere- E-mail, Facebook, text, Twitter, radar. Whatever you've got. Any questions?"

Yes.

_"What exactly does this virus do?" _

The man said something again about resetting counters and Wi-Fi. How it'd make stuff turn to zeros. Puck's brain was starting to cramp, and you could practically hear the gears straining to move in Finn's head.

"But yeah, I could be lying. So why trust me?" The Doctor asked.

Puck looked to The Doctor, waiting to hear the explanation for this one.

"I'll let my best men explain." He stated. Both Puck and Finn stood still, waiting for said 'best men.'

"You two," he whispered cautiously to the two boys, looking away from the camera to them. Puck would have sworn he'd forgotten them until now. "You're my best men."

Finn's eyes went wide. _"What?" _He hissed, mimicking the man's hushed tone.

The Doctor lowered the lid of the computer, turning to them.

_Whoa, this guy just excused himself from a freaking call _he _hacked. He means goddamn business. _

"Listen to me," He said, standing up so he could put an arm over both of their shoulders in support. "In ten minutes, you two are going to be legends. In ten minutes, anyone on that screen will offer you any job you want. But first, you have to be magnificent. You have to make them trust you and get them working. This is it, boys, right here, right now."

The man stretched a dramatic hand in front of them, as if gesturing to the future or some other greatness. "This is when you _fly._ Today is the day you save the world."

Finn looked at this man, almost untrusting, doubting the ability of himself to match up to the greatness this man described. "Why us?"

"It's your bedroom." He suggested, shrugging as he patted them both on the back. "So, go! On with it, boys!"

The man dashed out of the room with pristine precision, avoiding all unasked questions and other obstacles.

Puck and Finn stared at the laptop sitting on the bed as though it posed a threat. Puck was the one who broke the tense atmosphere after a moment, grabbing Finn's shoulder and squeezing it. He closed his eyes as he murmured, as the fate of the world rested on this question.

"Finn, you think NASA can provide me with a mob of Playboy bunnies who will follow me at my every whim?"

Finn bit his lip, thinking this through. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"Then let's do this crap!" Puck chanted, opening the laptop, sitting down on the bed as he placed it on his lip. Finn looked over his shoulder, kneeling behind him.

"Oh! And boys!"

Puck and Finn looked to the man, standing again in the door. "Yeah?" Puck asked.

"Delete your Internet history."

_Goal: To get to the coma ward. From there, get everyone evacuated, even if it means posing a homicidal rage. Or something like that. _

_Motivation: Still not quite sure. Something to do with the world ending in twelve minutes. _

_Obstacle: Groups of doctors freaking out. Yellow caution tape blocking the stairs. A screaming woman and a guard blocking the elevator. No one's getting anywhere, and the security guards are making this painfully clear. _

_How to defeat said obstacle: Figure it out as you go. _

"My, uh, my mom! My mom is in the coma unit, I think, sir." Blaine frantically explained, running a stressed hand through his gelled-down curls.

The nurse who'd just stopped short with the sight of Blaine gave him a sympathetic look, pressing a clipboard to his chest. "I'm sorry, but something is going on upstairs. The doctors can't tell me-"

"Please!" Kurt begged, grabbing the man's forearm so he couldn't walk away. "Please, sir, we saw this thing outside. My friend here, he thinks the world is going to end, and after what I just saw, I can't say I disagree. He had to see his mom again. She's been so ill, and he just has to feel her touch one more time before everything ends. _Please, _sir. For his _mother. _What harm could it _possibly _do to let a boy- who I should probably add has a horrendous stress disorder- see his dying mother for the last time?"

Whoa. Kurt was so good at lying, Blaine almost believed it himself.

Oh, God. And now Kurt was batting his eyelashes, striking tears in the bottom of his big ocean eyes, his bottom lip sticking out just a little bit until no living creature could beat this puppy dog face. It was adorable and awfully depressing at the same time.

The nurse looked a little concerned, and with a look at Blaine, a little skeptical. Kurt stepped on Blaine's toes, and Blaine snapped out of his Kurt-affiliated haze.

Blaine started jumping on his heels to dramatize this newfound stress disorder, fisting his hair. Kurt thought _he_ could act? Ha.

"K-Kurt," Blaine stuttered, looking up at the ever-so-slightly taller boy with wide eyes. He drummed his fingers against his thigh. Suddenly, he looked like he downed twenty coffees to many. "Kurt, I- I need m-my mum," He stuttered, tears welling up in his voice like a kindergartener... so maybe he was being a tad melodramatic. Whatever.

Kurt rubbed Blaine's back. "I know, Blaine, calm down, you'll see her soon."

"I- I am _so _sorry, boys," The nurse said, looking truly concerned. "I can't let you go any further for security reasons. I mean, we wouldn't want-"

Blaine broke out into sobs.

"Oh my God, Kurt, my mom, I'm never going to see my mom again, Kurt, Kurt, never, ever, ever, again." Blaine cried, shoving his face into Kurt's shoulder. "Kurt, we're all going to die and I'm going to die never seeing my mom again-"

"Uhm, son," the nurse questioned, rubbing the back of his neck and not taking his eyes off Blaine, "he doesn't have a history with panic attacks, does he? Or is this-"

_"Kurt!" _Blaine screamed into Kurt's coat that smelt mysteriously like his car floor and gummy bears that you left out in the sun too long. "I'm never going to see my mom again!"

Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine's neck, rubbing his back, but a little fierce when he said, "No, doctor, Blaine does _not _have a history of panic attacks and he _doesn't need to undergo _any _medicine or anything._"

Blaine caught on quick, perhaps a little too quick, because he bobbed his head up and wiped his cheek of fake tears. "No. No, I don't need-"

"Blaine." Kurt snapped. "No, you don't. Now, sir, would you please let my friend here see his mother one more time-"

"Boys, I'm sorry, I understand what's like to be away from your family in a crisis, but I can't do anything and I have to go." The nurse said, pulling his arm out of Kurt's already faltering grasp, and walking away.

Kurt glared holes into Blaine when the man had left, Blaine's face innocent and red from forced tears. "Nice going, drama queen. What was that?"

"I was acting! You said I had a stress disorder so I thought that meant-"

"But you don't just have a panic attack in the middle of a freaking hospital!" Kurt hissed. "But whatever, because I doubt he would go let us go up, anyway. Should I call him?"

Blaine rubbed a hand across his tired eyes, dramatizing his exhaustion. "Yeah, just, whatever."

"No need to be so grumpy about it."

"Sorry, I'm just, this is all so _weird. _I don't know what we're trying to be doing and I've been told the world is going to end in ten minutes and I have no idea whether to believe it or not. I might be a freaking nut case right now, but you can't deny I have an excuse." Blaine complained.

Kurt shrugged, a sort of apology implied with this motion. "I get it. Just… don't screw this up. Honest to God, I have no idea whether or not to believe any of this or not. I've started to fall under the notion of it, but I can't say I'm completely faithful in the idea of the world ending in ten minutes, despite the fact I just saw a man bark and an alien ship and a dream that haunted me throughout the majority of my childhood.

"Okay, I have to call him now. No time to lose over contemplating this. It's real or it's not, and if it's real, I'll just have to kill someone because I died over wondering over whether or not I'll die." Kurt said, whipping out his cell phone and dialing Blaine's number. Blaine nodded in agreement, leaning against a blue wall of the somewhat chaotic room. At least most of the chaos had been concealed to the opposite side of the wide room, where a woman was having probably a _real _panic attack; throwing punches at a security guard two times her size and a frustrated doctor holding her back.

Kurt sighed with relief as the phone picked up on the first ring. One less thing he had to worry about.

"Doctor, we're at the hospital and we can't get through."

"Ah, yes, let me guess- because the place is in an utter commotion over the ship that was just outside, and there is an unknown mystery haunting the upstairs, no one will let you up due to this fact. Doctors are panicking and at least one person is having a full on panic attack."

"How- how'd you know?" Kurt wondered, dumbstruck.

"The situation is rather predictable. This had happened a thousand times in human history and the always react the same way: a lack of conscious in the moment and a distinct stubbornness towards the event of their own death. Anyway, have you tried getting their sympathy? Pulled away the most vulnerable looking official and melted his heard with tears?"

"Yes," Kurt sighed. "To no avail."

"I was afraid of that. I knew it wouldn't work, so much going on right now my creativity is lacking… okay… coma unit… upstairs or downstairs?"

"Up. Two floors." Kurt responded.

"Ah… okay, that's no use. The stairs are locked off. Oh… com'mon, com'mon…"

Kurt carefully breathed into the phone, waiting patiently for an answer.

And that was when he heard the bloodcurdling scream that literally sent him jumping a foot in the air.

Of course, it was to be expected. In a situation like this, a scream like that would of occurred three minutes ago. Add to the suspense. Build tension. Kurt didn't think much of it- just dismissed it as the crazy woman across the room and her antics- until in front of his, Blaine tensed up and muttered in a short, almost silent breath. _"My mom." _

"What?" Kurt spluttered. "Your mom? Where is she? That was her?"

"Oh my God," Blaine murmured. "That must be her, she must of comeback already, I didn't she would- oh, and she's upstairs, Kurt, with her friend… in the coma- _Kurt, she's on the same floor as that thing and she just screamed._"

"Blaine, wait a second, calm down- how do you know that's your mom?" Kurt rationed, not pulling the phone away from his ear. He knew The Doctor heard every word they were saying- he must be.

"I just know." Blaine said. He didn't bother to add the fact that his mom made that exact same shriek when Blaine was fourteen and he told his father he was gay and she tried to stand up for Blaine. That same exact shriek left her lipstick-reddened lips when his hand made harsh contact with her face, and a similar sound when the man continued in his rage and smacked Blaine across the face. He didn't mention about the memories of that night that had been burned into his brain, or the memories of her scream two years later when they finally broke apart and he pushed her into a bookcase before storming out. Now wasn't the time or place to talk about this. Right now, Blaine just needed to help his mother. Because his mother only made that deafening sound in a time of crisis.

In that moment, Blaine came completely and utterly convinced the world was going to end in ten minutes if he didn't get up there. The sharp reality of the danger his mother was in hit him a tad dramatically, but he pushed through the crowds surrounding the stairs like they were nothing and ran through the neon yellow caution tape like it was the finish line of a race.

"He- he ran off." Kurt stated blankly for The Doctor, staring after the boy running up the stairs and the one or two men who had noticed him not doing anything but shouting, "Hey! Come back down!" before dismissing him.

"Well then," The Doctor said. "That was easy. A lot easier than expected, but go follow him!"

"Okay…" Kurt murmured, getting a little antsy as he saw Blaine turn the corner of the stairs, leaving his sight. "You on your way?"

"Don't worry. I've accommodated a vehicle." He said.

"Beautiful." Kurt said before snapping the phone shut, and looking both ways before he booted it up the stairs. In the midst of the commotion, only a few uncaring souls even recognized his actions.

"Blaine! Blaine, wait up!" Kurt screamed, darting up the stairs. He doubted Blaine heard anything.

Kurt barely noted his own panting as he skidded down the hallway, and came to a sudden stop when the fog of artificial cleaner and plastic rubber gloves hit him. His breath caught, and he grazed the mint blue walls, catching his breath as ungrateful memories of his father's heart attack the year before flooded his mind. The coma unit was the last thing he wanted to be familiar with, and yet, it was like coming across an old high school bully. Painfully nostalgic, and with a quick hate for the thing, once again.

"Blaine?" Kurt shouted down the long and empty hallway, his voice a little strained and quieter than before. Slowly, he walked down the ominously empty corridor. It looked like it had been hit by a tornado, papers strewn about the floor and machinery carelessly knocked to its side. Kurt felt the clichéd shiver run through him, and even though it was hot inside this coat in the spring air, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Blaine, where are you?" Kurt repeated.

Finally, he turned the right corner, and saw Blaine standing there, motionless and out of breath. Kurt's relief dissolved immediately, though, when he saw that he was facing off with a woman across the hallway.

He knew something was wrong. It wasn't intuition- it was obvious.

"Sir, the doctor, I think he's dead. Someone's in there, a man, a man with a dog- there's another woman in there and I think he might be hurting her." The woman spoke, her arm wrapped comfortably around another woman's shoulder. The silent woman was solemn, her head hung low, draped with dark brown curls.

"It's Prisoner Zero, right, Blaine?" Kurt whispered from behind him, nearing the boy who stood frozen in place. "I'm calling The Doctor. Prisoner Zero must be in there."

The phone rung, and Kurt tried to empathetically rub Blaine's shoulder. He didn't know why this boy was so strange all the sudden, probably shocked by the sound of his mother, but why had he stopped and why did he refuse to move?

"Are you in?" The Doctor asked as the phone picked up, sirens blaring behind him.

"Yeah." Kurt said, and Blaine looked up at him, hurt in his eyes. It was like he was waiting for something. "And I think that Prisoner Zero is, too."

"You need to get out of there!" He demanded.

"You just told us to get up! We finally got up and now-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted. Kurt fell silent.

"That's Prisoner Zero." Blaine whispered. "She's my mom's friend, the one in the coma."

Kurt stared at Blaine. He knew it was more than that- the pain in his eyes was more than just a fear of seeing someone he dimly knew possessed. It was pain. Not fear or shock or confusion. There was one emotion in those big hazel eyes, and it sent Kurt into a deep spiral of his own little depression for a moment there.

"And the one she has her shoulder over is my mom."


	5. Eleventh hour part five MINE! Yay!

Blaine's mom's friend carried on talking seeming not to notice the boys' shock, but the voice was coming from Blaine's mom. "And the size of that dog..." Kurt and Blaine began backing away, Kurt's arm still on Blaine's.

"Kurt? Are you alright?" Asked the Doctor, from the phone, however both Blaine and Kurt ignored it, still backing away. "Kurt?"

"Oh, I'm getting it wrong again, aren't I?" It was Blaine's mom's friend's mouth moving again this time. "So many mouths...I'm always doing that..." Kurt watched in shocked horror as the two women opened their mouths wide, and long fangs, just like on Prisoner Zero's natural form, emerged from the women's mouths. Grabbing Blaine's arm, Kurt pulled him along, running away from the two women and into the ward. Barricading the door with a broom, Kurt pushed Blaine down onto an empty bed. Opening the phone again, he rang the Doctor. "Kurt?"

"It's me," he replied, "and we're in the coma ward. Prisoner Zero is going to get in too though! Blaine's panicking, his mom is in here somewhere, and..."

"Where are you? What window?"

"Um..." Kurt began to quickly count the windows. "It's the first floor on the left, fourth window from the end." The broom handle suddenly broke with a snap, and Prisoner Zero quickly came through the door, still Blaine's mom and her friend. Kurt was glad to see the teeth go back to usual.

"Little Delilah Bell," hissed Prisoner Zero. "Or is it Kurt Hummel? I've watched you grow up. Twelve years, and you never even knew I was there." Kurt was pale. _Twelve years? You've watched me for twelve years?_ "Little Kurt Hummel," continued Prisoner Zero, "waiting for your magic Doctor to return, but not this time, Kurt Hummel." The Prisoner's teeth suddenly grew back to the long fangs of before. The phone in Kurt's hand vibrated. Kurt snapped it open, reading the text- "_Duck!_" A siren blared close to the hospital, and Kurt dragged Blaine down to the floor. A crash, and a ladder came through the window. Kurt raised an eyebrow. _That was anticlimactic, but then again, it would have hit me if I hadn't ducked...Blaine would have been okay, though,_ he thought as the Doctor climbed, monkey-like, up the ladder and into the room. He put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, and looked at Blaine. "Am I late? And what's he doing on the floor?"

"He thinks Prisoner Zero has his mom," Kurt replied, "and I have no idea why you are asking me if you're late."

"Does Prisoner Zero have his mother?" The Doctor asked, looking at the clock.

"She's like the dog," he replied cheerfully. "The real one will be around here somewhere, probably hiding."

"And I'm not late, there's still time."

"Time for what, Time Lord?" Asked Prisoner Zero, sneering at the three (if you counted Blaine).

"Take the disguise off, they'll find you in a heartbeat," said the Doctor, now ignoring Kurt. "Nobody dies."

"The Atraxi will kill me this time," she replied. "If I am to die, let there be _fire_."

"But you can escape, can't you? You came here by opening a crack in space and time. Do it again. Just leave."

Prisoner Zero paused. "I didn't open the crack."

"Well someone did."

"You don't know where the cracks came from?" Asked Prisoner Zero. Seeing the Doctor's blank face, the woman laughed. "The Doctor in the TARDIS doesn't know." She laughed. "The Universe will crack. The Pandorica will open, and Silence will fall."

Suddenly, a slight noise came from behind Prisoner Zero. Kurt looked at the clock: that was where the noise came from Kurt gaped at it. "And, we're off," said the Doctor, relaxing. "Look at that. Look, at that." Even Blaine turned to look. The clock had reset, going to 00:00. "Yeah, I know, it's just a clock. But right now, in a little bedroom, my team are working. Puck and Finn and the world." Kurt put his head in his hands.

"You do know Finn isn't the brightest, right? I mean, he's my stepbrother, I love him to death, but...seriously? Finn and Puck?"

"Why not? And do you know what they're doing? They're spreading the word, all over the world. Quantum fast. The word is out." Kurt suddenly had a vision of every clock in the world setting to 00:00. He thought of Rachel Berry, trying to get her clock to work, and Sue Sylvester trying to work hers. He giggled.

"Do you know what the word is?" The Doctor asked, and Kurt beamed with pride at _his_ Doctor, the man who had hurt him but helped him too, and was now saving the world. Blaine was staring too, but in bemusement. "The word is..._zero._ And if it were me, up there in a big battleship, monitoring all Earth communication...I'd take that as a hint. And if I had a whole battle fleet up there surrounding the planet, I'd be able to track the computer virus source in...ooh, under a minute? Did I mention the source is right here?" He wiggled the phone at them all. After a long, pregnant pause, a white light flashed through the window. "Ooh," he said, drawing the word out, "and I think they just found us." Kurt and Blaine, who now seemed able to wrap his mind around what was happening, ran to the window to look out. Kurt gasped. What was obviously an...Atraxi, he thought the Doctor had said, ship was hovering over the hospital, a spotlight coming directly from the pupil of the giant eyeball that was in the ship into the room.

"The Atraxi are limited," sneered Prisoner Zero. "While I'm in this form, they won't be able to detect me. They tracked a _phone_, not me."

"Yes!" The Doctor said, nodding. "But this is the good bit!" He was bouncing, looking slightly like a hyperactive puppy. "This is my _favourite_ bit! Do you know what this phone is full of? Pictures of you. Every form you have learned to take, right here, being uploaded right now! And the final score is...No TARDIS, no Screwdriver, two minutes to spare..._Who the man?_" He shouted, throwing his arms up.

Kurt put on his best 'bitch, _please_' face. "Really?" He said, unimpressed.

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Well, I'm never saying _that_ again..."

"Then I shall take a new form," Prisoner Zero said, looking smug.

"You know you can't," said the Doctor. "It takes _months._"

"And I've had years," Prisoner Zero sneered. Kurt paled. _That doesn't mean my dad, does it? Or...me?_ The two women begin to glow orange. The Doctor continued staring, unnerved, at the Prisoner. Kurt began feeling faint, and a niggling feeling came into the back of his mind, and slowly began taking over. In his mind, he began dreaming of his Doctor. He didn't even notice his legs giving out. The last thing he saw was the Doctor running towards him.

Kurt was dreaming. He could hear someone telling him not to go to sleep. _The Doctor_, his mind supplied.

"Poor Kurt Hummel," he heard himself as a child say. "Still such a child...So like Delilah Bell...Dreaming of the magic Doctor he knows will save him. What a disappointment you've been."

_No_, Kurt thought. _You did disappoint me, but you're back. And you're _NOT _leaving me again. Are you? _

"No! He's dreaming about me because he can hear me!" Footsteps, and someone crouching near his ear. "Kurt! Don't just hear me, listen. Remember the room, the room in your house you couldn't see. Remember you went inside, I tried to stop you but you did." Kurt remembered reaching for the doorknob, opening the door... "You went in the room. You went inside. Kurt... dream about what you saw." He remembered the blue-green monster with long teeth, the yellow eyes...

"No. No. _No!_" He heard himself say.

"Well done, Prisoner Zero. A perfect impersonation of yourself." Kurt stopped listening, seeing bright light before his eyelids.

He did, however, hear Prisoner Zero's last words "Silence, Doctor. Silence will fall."

More footsteps, and then Blaine. "This is good, right? The sun is back to normal- that means it's over?" _Blaine. Got to wake up for Blaine. _Opening his eyes, Kurt saw Blaine leaning over him.

"Kurt? You okay? You back with us?"

"Yeah," he replied. He knew what had happened, but he asked anyway.

"He did it. The Doctor did it."

"No I didn't," said the Doctor.

"What are you doing?"

"Tracking the signal back," he replied. "Sorry in advance."

"What for?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"The bill."

Blaine looked like he wanted to swear. The Doctor ignored the two, and began to talk into the phone.

"Oi! I didn't say you could go! Article 57 of the Shadow Proclamation. This is a fully established level five planet. And you were gonna burn it? What? Did you think no one was watching? You lot. Back here, now." Throwing the phone to Blaine, he said, "now I've done it," and wandered off.

"Did he just bring them _back_?" Blaine asked.

"Yes," Kurt said, hurrying after the Doctor, "now move it!"

Following the Doctor, he stormed into the corridor, Kurt decided to ask the question playing on both the boys' minds.

"Where are you going?"

"The roof. No, wait," he said, ducking into a cloakroom. "Aha!" With both Kurt and Blaine following him, he began picking up clothes. Blaine began picking up clothes that the Doctor had thrown to the ground. Kurt was wincing at the treatment of clothes, but asked the Doctor, "What are you doing?"

"I'm saving the world, I need a decent shirt! To hell with the raggedy - time to put on a show!"

"You've just summoned aliens back to Earth! Actual aliens! Deadly aliens! Aliens... of death, and... now you're... taking your clothes off. Kurt, he's taking his clothes off." Blaine said.

"If it offends you, turn away!" The Doctor said, taking off his shirt, and starting on his belt.

Blaine turned away, and noticed Kurt wasn't. "Kurt!"

"What? I'm not turning! I've waited since I was _six_ to see this!" Kurt exclaimed, and continued to watch the Doctor take off his clothes.


	6. Eleventh Hour part six MINE and the last

When they finally reached the rooftop, the Doctor was dressed in a new shirt, trousers and shoes. The Atraxi ship was waiting for them, Kurt noticed. "Was this a good idea? They were _leaving_!"

The Doctor didn't reply, just fiddled with his ties. Kurt wanted to offer his advice, but he got the feeling this man would not take it. And then he replied, "Leaving is good. Never coming back is better." He paused, before saying to the Atraxi, "Come on then! The Doctor will see you now!" The eyeball from the Atraxi ship was released, and Kurt felt a sharp pang of disgust. A blue light washed over the Doctor, examining and scanning him. Once it was done, he pulled up his braces.

"You are not of this world." The Atraxi had a gift for stating the obvious, it seemed.

"No, but I've put a lot of work into it." _Put a lot of work into it? That's not very nice! It makes us sound like we're some sort of science project! _Kurt was about to step in with his comments about this, but the Doctor seemed to realise Kurt's feelings about this phrase when he said, "Sorry. What do you think about the ties?" Kurt realised this was the Doctor's apology, so he threw the gross snot green one away, along with the one with little bells on. The Doctor looked longingly at the belled tie, but gave in to Kurt's superior knowledge of fashion.

"Is this world important?" The Atraxi asked. Kurt was _not happy _with that.

"This world has me on it," Kurt replied, with his best 'bitch, _please_' expression upon his face. "That makes it pretty damn important to me."

"Is it a threat to the Atraxi, is a better question," the Doctor said. "C'mon, you're monitoring the whole planet? _So_, is it a threat?"

Kurt watched in amazement as the same blue light came out and showed a hologram of the earth, then began showing pictures. He recognised most of them- pictures from wars and history books showing damage. Others, however, showed people with families, holding one another, praying, churches and peace. Kurt, however, felt Rachel Berry's fashion sense was a threat to anyone's eyes, and the Atraxi, being only an eye, were in great danger. He didn't say a thing, though. If he did say anything, he might put the world at risk. So he kept his mouth firmly closed.

"No," the Atraxi said after a long pause.

"Are the people of this world guilty of any crimes by the laws of the Atraxi?" More pictures, and Kurt saw carnivals, Christmas trees and lights, crowds, costumes...

"No."

"One more. Just one. Is this world protected?"

More blue light showed metal people, pepper pots screaming "exterminate!" , a giant spider, bald people with red eyes and tentacles coming from their mouths, warrior like people, and Kurt realised they were aliens like the Atraxi. Kurt realised that the Doctor was still talking.

"Because you're not the first to come here. And there have been _so_ many. I ask you this..._what happened to them_?"

Kurt watched as many different men showed on the hologram, and realised that these men, these faces, all belonged to one man. The one stood in front of him.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," says Kurt's magical, raggedy Doctor and Kurt beams at him as the man gives out a little laugh, "basically, run."

Kurt had no idea that an eye could widen without actual eyelids, but this eye, this giant, _alien_ eye looked terrified and it zoomed back up into the hole in the ship for it, and the ship left with a _whoosh. _Kurt watched the Doctor, who jerked for a second, and then pulled out a glowing key.

"Is that it? Are they gone for good?" Kurt asked, but then frowned. "Who exactly were they, anyway?" Kurt frowned when he got no answer and looked around, and immediately noticed his Doctor wasn't there anymore.

_He's left me again_ was Kurt's first thought. _He can't go, not now!_ Running after the Doctor, he slid into his garden just in time to see the big blue box fade away.

"_No!_" Kurt screamed. "He can't leave! He _can't_!" Kurt wanted to cry, but he held back the tears until Blaine's arms were around him, pulling him into a warm, comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine said, an arm around the boy. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt was sleeping. His room was organised and his life was in boxes, ready to go, only one outfit left out for the next day. He dreamt of a time when the Doctor did come back for him when he was a kid, kissing his forehead and saying, "Delilah Bell, I'll be back for you one day." Kurt smiled in his sleep.

Jolting awake to the sound of engines, he sat up in bed. Wearing only some pyjama bottoms wouldn't be good, so he grabbed a shirt he wore when in the garage with his dad and pulled it on before going to explore.

The Doctor was stood outside his ship. "Sorry about running off earlier! Just a quick trip to the moon and back to break her in...She's ready for the big stuff now."

"You came back..." Kurt stepped forwards and slapped the man in the face.

"Ow! What was that for! That's usually saved for the mothers..."

"One, my mother is dead, so I guess I'll have to do it instead-"

"I'm sorry about your mother..."

"And two, it's been _two years!_ And you kept the clothes. Along with the bloody bow-tie."

"Yeah. I save the world a lot! I should get to keep something!"

"You said the moon, right?"

"Yeah."

"And the Atraxi, they were...aliens?"

"Yeah."

"That's...amazing. Wow. Other _planets_..."

"Wanna see some? Other planets, I mean."

"No."

"Why? You wanted to when you were a kid."

"I grew up," he said, slightly angrily. "When I was a kid, I hadn't been bullied for years! When I was a kid, I hadn't been thrown in dumpsters and had slushie facials every day, delivered by jocks who were so far in Narnia they would never come out! I had to grow up. In a place like Lima, the gay kid grows up fast." Kurt was panting by the end of his fast, passionate speech, and felt his cheeks burn. He hadn't meant to reveal that much.

The Doctor merely shrugged it off, though Kurt could see it was obviously bothering him.

"Don't worry. I'll soon fix that," his Doctor said, clicking his fingers and the doors to the box opened and Kurt's mind simply stopped for a moment. Then he giggled, and stepped inside.

"It's...beautiful."

"Thank you."

It truly was. The inside of the box was indescribable, a mix of life and machinery and curves and lines and it was truly and wonderfully alive with hums and moans and _oh_ the feelings in the air were bright and beautiful. Kurt couldn't help but smile.

Suddenly, he realised something. "I'm in my pyjamas. My pyjama bottoms have bloody BATMAN on them and by tee shirt is all painty and oily!"

"Plenty of clothes in the wardrobe, don't worry."

"Not all like _that,_ I hope."

"Of course not! A friend of mine left some good stuff back there."

"Thank him from me when you see him next. Also, we should visit some shops."  
>"And, possibly a swimming pool. All of time and space! Where do you want to start?"<p>

"You're so sure I'm coming."

"I know you are because you're brilliant in a town full of apes. And I know how that feels."

"Oh yeah?"

"All this time and you're still clever and outgoing? Yeah, you're coming!" Kurt gave in to the temptation to touch things in here, to make sure it was real.

"Can you get me back for tomorrow?" _Please say yes..._

"What's tomorrow?"

"Just stuff." _Like finally moving to New York is 'just stuff'_.

"Alright! Back in time for stuff." The Doctor pranced around, pulling and pushing things so Kurt pulled a lever, not knowing what it did, but wanting to do something as the Doctor snatched up a slim, cigar-shaped device.

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

"No, seriously. You are asking me to run away with you in the middle of the night, it's a fair question. Why me?"

"Because you're brilliant. Plus, I just talk to myself now, and it's giving me earache..."

"I'm hard to live with."

"So am I."

"I sing lots."

"I do it badly."

"I'm a diva."

"I'm a madman with a box."

"Just so you know." And the Doctor smiles at that, and now Kurt can't help but smile back as the room begins to shake and the Doctor cries out:

"_Goodbye, Lima, Ohio! Hello, everything!"_

* * *

><p><strong><span>TO. BE. CONTINUED.<span>**


	7. Beast Below part one

Kurt was laughing.

He was watching the skies, no, not watching- he was part of the sky, eyes wide with wonder at the beauty of it. He hardly felt the Doctor's hand on his ankle, preventing him from flying off into space.

_Yesterday, I was packing up to go to New York. But my brilliant, mad, imaginary friend came back, two years after he stopped the Atraxi. _

_Now, I'm floating. In space. _

_Could be worse. I could be tied down and forced to listen to the third worst poetry in the Universe. _

_Shut up, brain._

"Come on, Bell," said the Doctor.

"How many times?" He sighed as the Doctor pulled him back into the TARDIS, "my name is Kurt Hummel."

"But Delilah Bell is a much better name," the Doctor said. Kurt glared. "No offence."

Kurt couldn't stay mad for long- he'd just been _floating in_ _space. _

"Now do you believe me?"

"Okay, you really have a spaceship. A really real spaceship." Kurt laughed again. "As in, a spaceship." He turned and yelled, "we are in space! Whoo!" A horrible thought struck him. "What are we breathing?"

"It's okay," the Doctor said, beaming at Kurt's enthusiasm. "I've extended the airshell, it's fine."

The Doctor seemed to spot something, as he crouched down. Kurt followed, quickly spotting what the Doctor had seen.

"Now that's interesting." He seemed to pick up on Kurt's desire to know what was happening, so he explained. "29th Century. Solar flares roast the earth, and the entire human race packs its bags and moves out till the weather improves. Whole nations..." Kurt leaned over and fell out of the TARDIS, grabbing the sides of the box to stop himself flying off into space.

"Doctor," he called, not panicking yet.

"Migrating to the stars."

"DOCTOR!"

"Isn't that amazing!"

"_DOCTOR!" _ The Doctor turned, confusion written on his face."Get. Me. Down." He seemed to fight the urge to laugh as he saw Kurt floating around, wearing the only thing he could find in the TARDIS wardrobe that would fit him (the Doctor still hadn't taken him shopping, the idiot), jeans and a tight black tee shirt.

"What's the magic word, Bell?"

"Now." Kurt was aware he was acting like a brat, but he really didn't care. He was floating in space in jeans and a tee shirt, and they weren't even _designer._

The Doctor pulled him into the TARDIS, and Kurt gave him a hug. "Thanks."

"It's okay. Well, come on! I've found us a spaceship!"

He dragged Kurt over to the circular screen that hung around the console.

"This is the United Kingdom of Britain and Northern Ireland, all of it, bolted together and floating in the sky."

"Cool," Kurt said. It was the only thing he could think to say. "How do you know, though? It could be America." That notion disappeared when he saw the Union Flag float past, painted on the side of the ship.

"Starship UK. It's Britain, but metal. That's not just a ship, that's an idea. That's a whole country, living and laughing and... _shopping_."

"Does that mean I can get new clothes there? Do they still have designer clothes? What about scarves?"

"Kurt! _Anyway,_ they're searching the Stars for a new home."

"Come on! Let's go out and see! And shop!"

"First, there's a thing," the Doctor said, following Kurt to where he was by the door.

"A thing? Are you going to tell me what it is, or is it just 'a thing'?"

"An important thing. In fact, thing one:" He peered through a magnifying gkass a t Kurt, "we are observers only. That's the one rule I've always stuck to in all my travels. I never get involved in the affairs of other peoples or planets."

_"What about the Atraxi?"_

"Ooh! That's interesting," the Doctor said, ignoring Kurt.

"So we're like a wildlife documentary, yeah? 'Cause if they see a wounded little cub or something, they can't just save it, they've got to keep filming and let it die. Or, if they see a fashion disaster, they can't stop them and dress them up...Doctor, there's a kid crying." He watched the child, a girl, dressed in what looked to be a school uniform, crying silently.

He gasped as he saw the Doctor go up to the girl and touch her shoulder, presumably asking if she was okay. The girl ran away, and he whispered, "_Doctor?_"

The Doctor made a 'come here' gesture, and he turned to the doors, and then ran out of the TARDIS, stopping short when he saw the world he was stepping into. A voice came from overhead:

"_Welcome to London Market. You are being monitored._"

"That's friendly," Kurt muttered, and then stepped out. "I'm in the future. Really in the future. I wonder if there's any of my descendants on board, or if they still remember Shakespeare, or Douglas Adams?"

"Inquisitive. I like it. And possibly, yes and yes. _"Oh freddled gruntbuggly, thy micturations are to me, As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee._

_Groop I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes. And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,_

_Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!"" _The Doctor quoted. "Anyway, look at this place. Isn't it...wrong?"

Kurt looked around. "I have no idea, seeing as I have no idea what a spaceship is supposed to be like." He rolled his eyes.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, and then said, "look around you, really look. What's wrong with this picture?"

Another announcement was called, but since Kurt didn't think it would actually apply to him, he ignored it.

"Life on a giant starship: back to basics. Bicycles, washing lines, wind-up street lamps. But, look closer. Secrets and shadows. Lives led in fear. Society bent out of shape, on the brink of collapse. A police state. Excuse me." The Doctor ran over to a table, Kurt following, nearly being knocked over by a girl on a bicycle. Scowling at the girl, he continued after the Doctor, and frowned when he saw the Doctor steal someone's water.

"What are you doing?" Both he and the man asked at the same time.

"Checking the water in this area. There's an escaped fish."

_Really? An escaped fish? Is that the best you can do? _ But Kurt nodded seriously behind him. "A piranha. Best we catch it quickly." Kurt picked up the water, and put it back on the table.

"My apologies for my friend's lack of manners, but it's very important we find this fish. Come along, Doctor. We've got to find him." He lead the Doctor away, and as soon as they were out of sight, rounded on the man.

"Why did you do that?"

"Well done, by the way, for playing along. Now, do you see it yet?"

"What?"

"That." Kurt looked over, and saw the little girl who was crying earlier, crying still. Still silent, but sat somewhere anyone could see- he cursed himself for being unobservant. But why weren't the adults stopping to help her? Some adults he could understand not stopping, but even in the future, there had to be kind people, right?

"Why aren't they stopping to help her?" He asked, angry on behalf of the girl. "If dad was here, if Carole was here, hell, even Rachel would stop to help, even if only because she wanted attention...Why isn't anyone helping?"

"children cry 'cause they want attention, 'cause they're hurt or afraid. When they cry silently, it's 'cause they just can't stop. Any parent knows that. Why are you so angry on her behalf, anyway?"

"When I was a kid, my mom died. I used to go and sit in the park and cry silently, too. Nobody stopped to help me. And how do you know about kids, anyway? Are you a parent? Sorry, that was rude..."

A long pause. "Hundreds of parents walking past this spot and not one of them's asking her what's wrong, which means they already know, and it's something they don't talk about. Secrets. They're not helping her, so it's something they're afraid of," the Doctor said, and Kurt could tell he was curious.

"Don't tell me- you want to find out what it is. I want to, too, so I guess I can't blame you."

"Shadows, whatever they're afraid of, it's nowhere to be seen..."

"Or it's everywhere."

"Or it's everywhere," the Doctor said with a nod. "Police state."

"Where did she go?" Kurt asked, just noticing the girl had gone while they were talking.

"Deck 27, Apple Sesame block, dwelling 54A. You're looking for Mandy Tanner."

"How do you know these things?"

"Oh, uh, this fell out of her pocket when I accidentally bumped into her."

He held up a brightly colored wallet. Kurt took it, feeling a bit silly.

"Took me four goes. Ask her about those things: the smiling fellows in the booths. They're everywhere." Kurt looked around- it was true. They gave him a horrible feeling of being watched, and he found their painted faces rather creepy. He had always hated puppets and clowns- they scared him. He nodded.

"Will do. They creep me out a little, too." Damn, that has slipped out before he could stop it. "But how did you realize?"

"They're clean. Everything else here is battered and filthy - look at this place. But no one's laid a finger on those booths. Not a footprint within two feet of any of them. Look, ask Mandy, "Why are people scared of the things in the booths?" Go on then, Bell."

"Wait- I don't know what I'm doing...Awh, screw it, I'll manage. What are you going to do?"

"What I always do, stay out of trouble. Badly." He jumped over the bench and Kurt followed a little way.

"When do we meet up?"

"Half an hour."

"And is this how it works?"

The Doctor turned, looking a little confused.

"You stay out of the buisness of people and planets...unless there's children crying?"

The Doctor walked up to him.

"Delilah Bell, Kurt Hummel, that is exactly how it works," he said with a smile.

"Okay." The two shared a smile, and then Kurt turned and headed away, noticing the Smiling thing in the booth was still untouched.


	8. Beast Below part two

Kurt felt slightly lost. So concentrated was he on finding his path, he jumped when Mandy spoke.

"You're following me." Mandy said, staring at Kurt. "I saw you watching me at the Marketplace." She stated it without any fear, and Kurt was impressed.

"You dropped this."

"Yeah, when your friend kept bumping into me." Kurt looked around. There was a part of the street covered by barriers. Mandy walked away.

"What's that?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound stupid.

"There's a hole. We have to go back." Mandy actually looked frightened.

"A _hole_? Seriously?" _Jeez, people are paranoid in the future. What do they thinks gonna happen, fall down a hole?_

"Are you stupid?" Aw, crap. He had sounded stupid. Oh well. He walked towards the barriers. "We can't go that way! There's a hole in the road. There's a travel pipe down by the airlocks, if you've got stamps." Kurt continued to walk forward. _He _didn't have stamps, did he? "_What are you doing?_"

"Don't mind me, I'm nosy. What's through there? What's so scary about a hole? Is there something under the road?"

"Nobody knows," Mandy replied nervously. By now, Kurt was sat picking the lock. "We're not supposed to talk about it."

"About what?" Kurt asked.

"Below." _Well, that's...ominous._

"And because you're not meant to, you don't? People do things they're not meant to all the time, don't they? I mean, they litter, they kill people, they hurt others...Watch and learn." He carried on trying to open the lock.

"You sound American."

"I am American. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, nothing. I was just wondering, how did you get here?"

"Just passing through. With a guy."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Your boyfriend?"

"...No. Oh my god. He's still at home."

"What?"

"I was meant to be moving with him."

"When?"

"A long time ago tomorrow."

"That's weird," Mandy said, a look of disgust on her face. "Why would you want a boyfriend?"

"Don't knock it till you've tried it!" Kurt replied. "Result!" He exclaimed when he had opened the lock. "Coming?"

"No!" Mandy looked scared once more.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and began to crawl in.

"Stop! You mustn't do that!" Mandy sounded desperate and scared. "Please! Don't!"

Kurt ignored her and wandered into the tent that was covering up the hole. The inside of the tent was dark, lit only by flashing lights. He noticed a murky brown column in the middle of the tent, seemingly coming out of the hole. Grabbing a torch, nearly panting in fear, he lit it up. The thing, whatever it was, was swaying slowly.

"Oh my god," he breathed. "That's...weird. And really kind of ugly." He gave a little shriek as the thing attacked with what looked like a beak or a pincer. He shuffled out of the tent, not taking his eyes of the thing. Looking up, he saw men, dressed all in black, surrounding him. He could hear Mandy breathing heavily behind him, and one of the men put a fist in his face. A gas poured out of the ring, and he quickly fell into unconsciousness. 

Meanwhile, the Doctor was investigating, waving his sonic screwdriver around. "Can't be." He noticed a glass of water on the floor, once again absolutely still. Laying down to watch it, he heard boots clicking. "The impossible truth in a glass of water," the woman whispered, her masked face looking down at him. She wore a red robe and the mask she wore was white and old looking. "Not many people see it. But you do, don't you, Doctor?"

"You know me?" he spoke at normal volume, and she looked around for something.

"Keep your voice down!" She whisper-shouted. "They're everywhere. Tell me what you see in the glass."

"Who says I see anything?" He challenged her.

"Don't waste time. At the marketplace, you placed a glass of water on the floor, looked at it, then came straight here to the engine room. Why?"

"No engine vibration on deck. Ship this size, engine this big, you'd feel it. The water would move. So...I thought I'd take a look." He opened a power box on the wall. "It doesn't make sense. These power couplings, they're not connected. Look. Look - they're dummies, see?" He crossed the hall once more, tapping the wall."And behind this wall, nothing. It's hollow. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was..."

"No engine at all," the masked lady finished his sentence with him.

"But it's working! This ship is travelling through space, I saw it."

"The impossible truth, Doctor. We're travelling among the stars in a spaceship that could never fly."

"How?"

"I _don't know. _There is a darkness at the heart of this nation. It threatens every one of us. Help us, Doctor. You're our only hope. Your friend is safe." She handed him a device. "This will take you to him. Now go! Quickly!"

She turned on her heel and began to walk away, white mask blue in the light.

"Who are you? And how do I find you again?"

"I am Liz 10," the woman replied, half turning. "And _I_ find you." The Doctor heard a loud crashing sound, and he looked around for a moment, trying to find its source. When he looked back, the mysterious Liz 10 was gone, leaving only the hissing of steam and the gentle whir of the device behind her.

Kurt woke slowly, vision blurry, and when it sharpened, he saw a smiling figure in a booth. A computerised voice spoke while he looked around.

"'Welcome to voting cubicle 330C. Please leave this installation as you would wish to find it." He got up, looking at the four computer monitors, in the style of a retro televisions, in front of him, and then getting up and wandering around a little. Turning, he looked closer at the panel as the voice continued to speak.

"The United Kingdom recognises the right to know of all its citizens." He looked down, and gasped as he saw the three buttons in front of him. One read, 'protest', one 'record' and the other 'forget'.

"A presentation concerning the history of Starship UK will begin shortly. Your identity is being verified on our electoral roll." Kurt sat down, feeling heavy.

"Name: Kurt Hummel. Age: 1,306."

"You sure know how to flatter someone, don't you?" Kurt cooed sarcastically.

"Marital status: unknown." He flopped into the chair, snuggling down to watch the video. An older man came onto the screen, and he began to talk.

"You are here because you want to know the truth about this starship, and I am talking to you because you're entitled to know. When this presentation has finished, you will have a choice. You may either protest...or forget. If you choose to protest, understand this. If just 1% of the population of this ship do likewise, the programme will be discontinued, with consequences for you all. If you choose to accept the situation - and we hope that you will - then press the "forget" button. All the information I am about to give you will be erased from your memory. You will continue to enjoy the safety and amenities of Starship UK, unburdened by the knowledge of what has been done to save you. Here, then, is the truth about Starship UK, and the price that has been paid for the safety of the British people. May God have mercy on our souls." As Kurt watched, he felt tears run down his cheeks, and then...

Blank. He could remember nothing about what had happened in the booth. 'Message Waiting' read upon the screen. He touched play.

"This isn't a trick. You've got to find the Doctor and get him back to the TARDIS. Don't let him investigate. Stop him. Do whatever you have to. Just please, please get the Doctor off this ship!"

The door opened as the message began to replay. Mandy and the Doctor were stood there, and the Doctor looked deep into Kurt's eyes.

"Oh, Kurt. What have you done?" Kurt turned off the message. The Doctor's face was a mask of disappointment, but he seemed to shake it off and he jumped onto the table, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the lamp on the ceiling.

"Yeah, basic memory wipe job. Must have erased, ooh, twenty minutes?"

"Why would I do that? Why would I choose to forget? _That's not me! I wouldn't do that!_"

"Everyone chooses to forget," Mandy said softly.

"Did you?"

"I'm not old enough. Once you're sixteen you can see the film any time and make your choice. And then, once every five years..."

"Everyone chooses to forget what they've learnt. Democracy in action."

"How do you not know about this? Are you American too?"

"Oh, I'm worse than American."

"HEY!"

"The film won't play for me. Doesn't recognise me as human."

"You look human."

"You look Time Lord. We came first."

"So, there are other Time Lords, yeah?"

"No. There were, but there aren't... Just me now. Long story. There was a bad day. Bad stuff happened, and you know what? I'd love to forget it all, every last bit of it, but I don't. Not ever. Cos this is what I do - every time, every day, every second. This. Hold tight. We're bringing down the government." Kurt hated to look at the Doctor. He felt...well, he didn't know how he felt. But when he saw the Doctor slam his hand down onto the 'protest' button and a hole opened up in the floor, he knew exactly how he felt. He was scared to death.

"Say 'weeee'!" The Doctor said.

"No !" Kurt screamed as he fell down the hole, the Doctor at his side.

Mandy watched as the sign turned from 'occupied' to 'empty'. She jumped when someone came up behind her. "It's alright, love," said Liz 10, removing her mask. "It's only me."

_Hey guys, I hate putting these in, but I wanted to explain: I don't know Kurt's middle name. I can never remember it, so just imagine it's there, okay? Ta._

_funky xxxx_


	9. Beast Below part three

The journey down the chute was pitch black and very fast. Kurt exited the pipe with a scream, and splashed into something that smelt disgusting, and when he looked at it, it looked pretty gross, too.

"High speed air cannon," said the Doctor, also covered in the sticky gloop. "Lousy way to travel."

"Where are we and what are we lying in?"

"600 feet down, 20 miles laterally - puts us at the heart of the ship. I'd say... Lancashire. What's this, then - a cave? Can't be a cave. Looks like a cave."

"It's a rubbish dump, and it's disgusting." Kurt felt around and picked something out of his hair. "Oh, _gross_," he moaned and threw it.

"Yeah, but only food refuse. It's organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship."

Kurt got down on his hands and knees to feel the floor. "The floor's all squidgy, like a waterbed," he remarked.

"But feeding what?"

"It's all rubbery, feel it. Wet and slimy."

A rumbling noise came from overhead, but Kurt ignored it. If they were at the heart of the ship, they'd be hearing some noises, right?

"Er, it's not a floor, it's a..." he put away the screwdriver. "So..."

"It's a what, Doctor?" Kurt had a feeling he didn't want to know, but ignoring that feeling seemed like a pretty good idea. The more you knew, the better off you were.

"The next word is kind of the scary word. Take a moment, get yourself in a calm place." He took Kurt's hands. "Go 'ommm'."

"For god's sake just tell me what we're standing on!"

"It's a tongue."

"A tongue? So what we're lying in...ugh! Ergh!" Kurt felt his face scrunch up in an expression of horror.

"A tongue! A great big tongue!"

"So we could be swallowed any second. Great."

"Yes, yes, yes. But on the plus side, it's roomy. If this is the mouth, I'd love to see the stomach!"

"You're tempting fate," Kurt hissed.

"But not right now," the Doctor said as a rumbling came from above them. "Definitely not now."

"How do we get out? We won't have to...you know...take a trip through the digestive system?"

"Well, it's being fed through feeder tubes so that means the normal entrance is closed for business." Long, sharp teeth that were closed backed up this theory.

"So?" he began to move forward. "We can..."

"No! Stop! Don't move!" The mouth heaved. "It's already started."

"Don't tell me...we're being..._swallowed?_"

They both slipped over and fell back into the refuse with a squish. The Doctor began using his sonic screwdriver to do...something.

"What are you doing?" Kurt screamed at him.

"I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors."

"What?"

"I'm pressing the eject button!"

"Oh, that's gross! I'll never get these clothes clean!" Kurt looked around. A tsunami of bile was coming towards them.

"Now," the Doctor said, straightening his bow tie, "this isn't going to be big on dignity."

"Or cleanliness."

"Geronimo!" Kurt gave another screech as they were caught up in the tidal wave of sick.

Kurt opened his eyes and began coughing. "Gross." The Doctor turned from the door. "Look." Kurt looked at the door, retching at the smell of his clothes.

"One door, one door switch, one condition." He moved to show Kurt the button on the door. "We forget everything we saw. Look familiar? That's the carrot." The lights flicked on."Ooh, here's the stick. There's a creature living in the heart of this ship. What's it doing there?" The faces spun around, showing frowns. "No, that's not going to work on me, so come on. Big old beast below decks, and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That how it works?" The faces spun around again, this time, they showed red eyes and teeth bared in a snarl. "Oh, stop it. I'm not leaving and I'm not forgetting and what are you fellows going to do about it? Stick out your tongues?" The doors to the booths opened and the monsters stepped out.

"That's not sticking out their tongues," murmured Kurt.

Suddenly, shots came from behind them and they spun, seeing a woman dressed in red. She turned, spun the gun, and put it into a holder on her thigh.

"Look who it is. You look a lot better without the mask."

"You must be Kurt. Liz. Liz 10."

"Hello," he shook her hand.

"Eurgh," she said, wiping her hand on her cloak. "Nice hair. Nice face. Shame about the sick. You know Mandy, yeah?" Mandy stepped forward, and Liz put her arm around the girl. "She's very brave."

"How did you find us?" The Doctor asked.

"Stuck my gizmo on you. Been listening in. Nice moves on the hurl escape. So, what's the big fella doing here?"

"You're over sixteen, you've voted. Whatever this is, you've chosen to forget about it."

"Nope, never forgot, never voted. Not technically a British subject."

"You're the Queen, aren't you?" Kurt asked.

"Nice one, he's smart. Keep him. Anyway, I was brought up on stories of you, Doctor. My whole family was. And you _are_ a bit hard to miss. Escaped fish? Seriously?"

"That's what I thought," Kurt said, and then noticed the thing nearest him was moving.

"Ah. Doesn't take them long to repair. Let's go."

The Queen begins to talk as they walk towards...well, Kurt isn't sure where they're going, but they are going somewhere. "The Doctor. Old drinking buddy of Henry XII. Tea and scones with Liz II. Vicky was a bit on the fence about you, weren't she? Knighted and exiled you on the same day. And so much for the Virgin Queen, you bad, bad boy! And DOWN!" They all ducked as she turned and shot the things that were following them.

Turning down another corridor, Liz said, "There's a high speed vator there." She pointed at what looked like a lift, and that's when Kurt saw the things, bashing against the metal.

"Oh yeah, and these things."

"Doctor, I saw one of those up top. There was a hole in the road, like it had burst through, like a root."

"Exactly like a root. It's all one creature - the same one we were inside - reaching out. It must be growing through the mechanisms of the entire ship."

"What? Like an infestation?"

"Someone's helping it. Feeding it."

The Doctor nodded.

"Feeding my subjects to it! Come on, we've got to keep moving." She stormed away in anger.

"Doctor?"

"Oh, Kurt. We should never have come here."

Kurt couldn't help but remember his message to himself. _Don't let him investigate. Stop him. Do whatever you have to. Just please, please, get the Doctor off this ship! _At the time, he hadn't known what to think. But now, he was starting to believe it was because the truth would hurt the Doctor so badly, he may never recover.

"We're in your bedroom. I'm in a Queen's bedroom," Kurt stated, looking around. He was wondering about the glasses as the Doctor stepped over them, and it seemed the Doctor wondered too.

"What's with all the glasses?"

Liz was laying on her bed, and she looked angry as she replied, "To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to find out what."

The Doctor picked up the mask, studying it under an impassive gaze. "A queen going undercover in her own kingdom?"

"Secrets are being kept from me. I don't have a choice. Ten years I've been at this - my entire reign - and you've achieved more in one afternoon." She sighed.

The Doctor was pacing. "How old where you when you came to the throne?"

"40, why?"

"What? You're fifty?" Kurt said in surprise from where he was fixing his hair, with Mandy watching. "You're way too young to be fifty!"

"Thank you. But they slowed my body clock, it keeps me looking like the stamps."

"You always wear this in public?"

"Undercover's not easy when you're me. The autographs, the bunting."

"Air balanced porcelain," as the Doctor said this, Kurt had flashbacks to Sue Sylvester calling him Porcelain, "stays on by itself because it's perfectly sculpted to your face."

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh, Liz. So everything."

Suddenly, four hooded men entered the room. Kurt recognised one of them from when he first met Mandy, when he was investigating the hole in the ground.

"What are you doing? How dare you come in here?" Liz was angry, her face a storm.

"Ma'am, you have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now."

"Why would I do that?"

And then the man's head turned around. It was like something from a horror movie, with another man's head attached to the back of his. It was a snarling face from the dummies in the booths.

"Oh my god..." Kurt whispered."How can they be Smilers?"

"Half human, half Smiler," the Doctor answered Kurt's question.

"Whatever these creatures are, I am still their Queen. Upon who's authority is this done?"

"The highest authority, ma'am."  
>"I AM the highest authority." She snarled back.<p>

"Yes, ma'am. You must go now, Ma'am."  
>"Where to?" Liz sneered at the Smilers, and Kurt was impressed. But then again, if he were Queen he'd expect everyone to bow to his commands too.<p>

"The tower, ma'am."

The four were lead to the tower, which was nothing like Kurt was expecting. He had expected an old, dusty room filled with cells and metal bars. What he was not expecting was a room filled with Smilers and machinery, and as it was old, this contrasted strangely with the machinery. It was a very odd room, he decided.

"Doctor, where are we?" He had guessed the 'tower' was something different when he saw the flailing creature through the metal gates.

"The lowest point of Starship UK." He spread out his arms. "The dungeon."

A grey haired man walked towards them, lowering his hood. He wore glasses and a key.

"Hawthorne! So this is where you hid yourself away! I think you have some explaining to do!"

"There's children down here!" the Doctor said, watching children walk past. "What's that about?"

"Protesters and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast. For some reason, it won't eat the children. You're the first adults it's spared. You're very lucky."

"Yeah, we're _so_ lucky," Kurt deadpanned.

"Yeah, look at us. Torture chamber of the Tower of London. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Except it's not a torture chamber, is it? Well, except it is. Except it isn't. Depends on your angle." He darted around, checking machinery and then joined Liz in looking down an open well with something inside it. Kurt went to look too.

"Oh my god," he breathed.

"What's that?"

"Like I say, depends on the angle. It's either the exposed pain centre of the big fella's brain, being tortured relentlessly, or..."

"Or?" Liz said, looking as though she needed to understand. Kurt knew how she felt. He needed to know, too.

"Or it's the gas pedal, the accelerator - Starship UK's go-faster button."

"Oh my god," Kurt said, the puzzle pieces falling into place slowly. "Oh my_ god._"

"I don't understand."

"Don't you? Try, go on. The spaceship that could never fly, no vibration on deck. This creature - this poor, trapped, terrified creature. It's not infesting you, it's not invading - it's what you have instead of an engine. And this place down here is where you hurt it, where you torture it, day after day, just to keep it moving." Another beam fell onto the creature's brain.

"Tell you what." He moved to another well and lifted the grate, "Normally, it's above the range of human hearing." An extension of the creature came free. "This is the sound none of you wanted to hear."

Tortured screams came to Kurt's ears and he felt wetness on his cheeks.

"Stop it," said Liz, looking devastated and obviously trying not to cry. "Who did this?"

"We act on instructions from the highest authority," Hawthorne said.

"I am the highest authority. The creature will be released, now. I said now!" Nobody moved. "Is anyone listening to me?"

"Liz. Your mask." The Doctor held it out to her.

"What about my mask?"

"Look at it. It's old. At least 200 years old, I'd say." The Doctor looked sad.

"Yeah, it's an antique, so?"

"Yeah, an antique made by craftsmen over 200 years ago and perfectly sculpted to your face. They slowed your body clock, all right, but you're not 50. Nearer 300. And it's been a long old reign."

"No, it's ten years. I've been on the throne ten years."

"Ten years. The same ten years, over and over again, always leading you here." He took her hand and showed her the voting area.

"What have you done?" It looked as though her heart was breaking.

"Only what you ordered. We work for you, ma'am. The Winders, the Smilers, all of us." He turned on the screen.

Liz was on it. "If you are watching this...If I am watching this, then I have found my way to the Tower Of London." Her voice broke, and the screen changed. Now, there was a creature, what was carrying the ship, upon it. "The creature you are looking at is called a Star Whale. Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travellers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the last of its kind." The screen was back on Liz's face. "And what we have done to it breaks my heart. The Earth was burning. Our sun had turned on us, and every other nation had fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter. And then it came, like a miracle. The last of the star whales. We trapped it, we built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish our voyage to continue, then you must press the "forget" button." Liz looked at the button, but did not move to press it. "Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the other button." Again, she looked at the button, but made no move to press that one, either. "Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintegrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision." The message ended.

"I voted for this? Why would I do that? I can't have done, it must be a mistake..."

"You did it. Because you knew if we stayed here, I'd be faced with an impossible choice. Humanity or the alien. You took it upon yourself to save me from that. And that was wrong. You don't ever decide what I need to know."

"I don't even remember doing it!" Kurt felt his eyes well up.

"Oh, I don't care." Kurt reared back as though he had been slapped. This was the man who had kept coming back for him, who's kindness had stopped him from hurting the bullies that he could have hurt... "When I'm done here, you're going home." He stared at him. _No! You can't send me back! You've only just come back for me! You promised, Doctor! You said!_

"Why? Because I made a mistake? One mistake? I don't even remember doing it. Doctor!" He followed the Doctor as he walked away, shouting at the man who he might be falling a little bit in love with.

"Yeah. I know. You're only human."

"What are you doing?" Liz broke the stare between the two men.

"The worst thing I'll ever do. I'm going to pass a massive electrical charge through the Star Whale's brain. Should knock out all its higher functions, leave it a vegetable. The ship will still fly, but the whale won't feel it."

"That'll be like killing it." The Doctor, Liz and Kurt had tears in their eyes.

"Look, three options. One: I let the Star Whale continue in unendurable agony for hundreds more years. Two: I kill everyone on this ship. Three: I murder a beautiful, innocent creature as painlessly as I can. And then I find a new name, cos I won't be the Doctor any more."

"There has to be something we can do."

"Kurt's right, there has to be some other way," Liz said.

"Nobody talk to me. Nobody human has anything to say to me today." The Doctor screamed at them, then he continued to work, Kurt sitting with Mandy and braiding her hair.

Some children walked into the room, and Mandy got up. "Timmy!" She went to him. "Timmy, you made it, you're okay!" Timmy said nothing. "It's me. It's Mandy."

Kurt watched as a feeler reached out to Mandy and, instead of hurting her, it let her stroke it. And then he understood.

It was like the Doctor. It was old and the last and it saw everything but it didn't interfere, unless there were children crying.

"Doctor, stop. Whatever you're doing, stop it now!" He ran over to Liz and grabbed her. "Sorry, your majesty, but I need your hand." He took Liz over to the buttons and forced her hand onto the 'abdicate' button.

"Kurt! No! No!"

The whale bellowed and the whole ship shook, Kurt falling over along with just about everyone else on board.

"Kurt, what have you done?"

"Nothing at all, am I right?"

Hawthorne's astonished voice came from across the room, "we've increased speed."

"Well you have stopped torturing the pilot," he said with an eye-roll.

"It's still here...I don't understand..."

"The Star Whale didn't come like a miracle all those years ago. It volunteered. You didn't have to trap it or torture it - that was all just you. It came because it couldn't stand to watch your children cry. What if you were really old, and really kind and alone? Your whole race dead, no future. What couldn't you do then? If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind..." He turned and looked at his Imaginary Friend, his Raggedy Doctor, "you couldn't just stand there and watch children cry."

And as Kurt and the Doctor walked out of the room, Liz and Hawthorne exchanged a sorrowful and remorseful look.

It was the end of Starship UK's secrets, and the beginning of something new.


	10. Beast Below part four

Kurt found the Doctor staring out at the stars on the Observation Deck.

"From her Majesty," he held out the mask, "she says there will be no more secrets on Starship UK."

"Kurt, you could have killed everyone on this ship." His voice was low and dark.

"You could have killed a star whale." He matched the Doctor's tone.

"And you saved it. I know, I know."

After a moment of silence, Kurt spoke again. "Amazing, though, don't you think? The Star Whale. All that pain and misery... and loneliness." He looked at the Doctor. "And it just made it kind."

"You didn't know how it would react."

"YOU didn't. But I've seen it before. Very old and very kind, and the very, very last. Sound a bit familiar?" The Doctor swept Kurt up into a hug. "Hey," he said softly.

"What?"

"Gotcha," he said into the Doctor's jacket.

"Ha! Gotcha," he replied softly, burying his face in Kurt's shoulder.

After a while, they walked back through the market to the TARDIS.

"Shouldn't we say goodbye? Won't they wonder where we went?"

"For the rest of their lives. Oh, the songs they'll write! Never mind them. Big day tomorrow."

"How do you know?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"It's always a big day tomorrow! I've got a time machine, I skip the little ones!"

"You know what I said about getting back for tomorrow morning... Have you ever run away from something because you were scared, or not ready, or just... Just because you could?"

"Once...a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"Hello," he said, gesturing to himself, then running into the TARDIS.

"Right. Doctor, there's something I haven't told you. No. Hang on, is that a phone ringing?" He followed the Doctor back inside. "People phone you?"

"Well, it's a phone box. Would you mind?"

Kurt picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"You aren't the Doctor. One of his companions, I suppose. Anyway, this is the Prime Minister."

"No, who? Seriously, who?" He muffled the phone. "He says he's the prime minister. First the Queen, now the Prime Minister. Get about, don't you?"

The Doctor gestured to pull a lever, then asked, "Which one?" Kurt pulled it and relayed the question.

"The British one," replied the British Prime Minister.

"Which British one?" Kurt listened, and held the phone out to the Doctor with wide eyes.

"Winston Churchill on the phone for you," he said in a shocked voice.

"Oh! Hello, dear. What's up?"

Miles and years away, Winston Churchill replied to the Doctor, "Tricky situation, Doctor. Potentially very dangerous. I think I'm going to need you." He looked at the shadow of the Dalek, and turned back to the phone.

"Don't worry about a thing, Prime Minister. We're on our way." The Doctor hung up, and Kurt smiled. Seemed like he wasn't being taken home after all, he thought, as the TARDIS took off.

And even though there was a terrible amount of fear with monsters, and some of them not alien, he couldn't be happier.


	11. Victory Of The Daleks Part One

Kurt watched as the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS. He was a little weary about joining the man, but luckily he had been shopping and had found some nice things to wear. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a woman's sweater-dress. "Kurt," the Doctor called, and he hung by the TARDIS doors, "Winston Churchill."

"Doctor! Is it you?" Kurt stepped out of the TARDIS in amazement. Churchill. It was really Churchill.

"Ah, Winston, my old friend!" The Doctor went to shake Churchill's hand, but Churchill motioned that he wanted something. Kurt frowned.

"Every time!" The Doctor said delightedly. "He wants the TARDIS key," he said to Kurt, when it didn't look like he was going to ask.

"Think of what I could achieve with your fabulous machine, Doctor," Churchill said. Kurt was still blinking over the shock of _Churchill. _"The lives that could be saved!"

"Doesn't work like that," the Doctor replied.

"Must I take it by force?"

"I'd like to see you try," the Doctor said, seemingly amused.

"At ease," Churchill said, and the guards lowered their guns. Kurt felt slight relief wash over him.

"You rang?" Asked the Doctor.

As they walked, Kurt decided to guess where they were. He barely paid attention to the Doctor's conversation with Churchill about the Doctor 'changing his face'.

"Got it! Cabinet War Rooms, right?"

"Yep! Top secret heart of the war office, right under London."

"You're late, by the way," Churchill rumbled, as a woman walked up to them holding a clipboard.

"Requisitions, sir." The woman said. She was pretty, and had sad eyes, Kurt noticed idly.

"Excellent."

"Late?" the Doctor sounded incredulous.

"It has been known to happen," Kurt said tartly, still smarting over the Doctor not coming back for years.

"I rang you a month ago," Churchill said, signing the clipboard that was thrust in his face. _Could have been worse...could have been when the war was over!_

"Really? Sorry. Sorry, it's a Type 40 TARDIS. I'm just running her in."

Churchill handed back the clipboard. "Something the matter, Breen? You look a little down in the dumps."

"No, sir," the girl, Breen, smiled. Kurt, however, having faked smiles for so long, knew one when he saw one. "Fine, sir."

"Action this day, Breen! Action this day!"

Breen glanced at Kurt, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Excuse me, sir, got another formation coming in, Prime Minister. Stukas, by the look of them."

"We shall go up top then, Group Captain! We'll give em what for!" He turned to look at the Doctor. "Coming, Doctor?"

"Why?"

Churchill snatched back his cane, that Kurt hadn't even noticed had been given away, and said, sounding very pleased with himself, "I have something to show you."

The Doctor mouthed 'oooh' to Kurt, and Kurt laughed softly and they followed Churchill into an elevator.

Churchill pulled a lever and Kurt hung back, not wanting to breathe in the cigar smoke. It was wafting in the Doctor's direction, and the Doctor didn't look very pleased about it, as he frowned and wafted it away as Churchill turned to the Doctor to speak to him.

"We stand at a crossroads, Doctor. Quite alone, with our backs to the wall. Invasion is expected daily. So I will grasp with both hands anything that will give us an advantage over the Nazi menace." Kurt remained silent. He knew about the second world war (who didn't?), but it was quite alarming, hearing about it from someone who was living through it, and was not knowing when the next attack would come. He wondered idly what the date was, whether there was going to be anything truly huge was going to happen. The Doctor turned to Kurt, and then back to Churchill.

"Such as?"

The lift stopped, and Churchill pushed aside the metal gate. "Follow me."

They emerged on the roof, and saw a man in a white coat with binoculars watching the skies amongst the sandbags stood there, a siren blaring in the distance.

"Wow," Kurt breathed, looking around him in awe. The siren continued to blare.

"Doctor, this is Professor Edwin Bracewell, head of our Ironsides project." The Doctor held up his hand with a 'V for Victory'.

"How do you do?" The Scottish man waved at the Doctor and Kurt, before continuing to watch the skies. Kurt wandered away, to the edge of the roof. He was shocked. He looked over London, seeing Big Ben, and houses on fire and the sirens and... "Doctor, oh. Doctor, it's..." he couldn't voice his horror.

"History," the Doctor said, his eyes and tone sad, and they turned when Churchill shouted.

"Ready Bracewell?"

Bracewell turned. "Aye aye, sir!" He gave a thumbs up to Churchill, then turned back to watch again. "On my order!" A pregnant pause. "FIRE!" Lasers appeared from behind a pile of sandbags, with a 'shwmp' noise. They hit the planes, and the planes exploded into balls of flame.

"What was _that_?" Kurt asked, a little horror in his voice. He'd just seen some people _killed_! Wait, he hadn't read about a weapon like that in the history books!

"That wasn't human, that was never human technology. That sounded like... Show me! Show me what that was!" His voice rose to a shout as he climbed the ladder to Bracewell.

"Doctor! Are you alright?" Kurt was worried. The Doctor looked very angry, but disbelieving. And slightly scared. _What could make the Doctor act like that? Oh my god, what's so bad the Doctor is scared?_ He knew it was important, but he wasn't sure why.

"Advance!" Bracewell ordered.

"Our new secret weapon!" Churchill shouted up to him, sounding proud of himself and Bracewell.

From behind the sandbags, something that Kurt thought looked like a pepper pot trundled out. It had a long eyestalk, a laser and a..._can't be, _Kurt thought. _That thing does not have a plunger attached to it. _There were what looked to be lights that were covered based on its dome, and it was painted in army khaki, and under the eyestalk was a tiny Union Flag. The Doctor's face changed into a mix of anger, hatred and slight fear.

"What do you think? Quite something, eh?" Churchill called. Kurt gaped at the man, couldn't he see the Doctor's face? Kurt knew, from the moment he'd seen the Doctor's face change, something had been wrong here. Why didn't Churchill? The Doctor approached the Pepper Pot.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

"I am your soldier," a grating, metallic voice came from the Pepper Pot, and the speech seemed to shake it.

"What?" Disbelief rang in the Doctor's voice.

"I am your soldier."

"Stop this! Stop it now! You know who I am, you always know!" The Doctor sounded confused and angry.

"Your identity is unknown."

"Perhaps I can clarify things here; this is one of my Ironsides." Bracewell walked back over to the Doctor, waving his hand between them.

"Your what?" the Doctor asked. Kurt privately agreed; Ironsides was a stupid name.

"You will help the Allied cause in any way you can?" Asked Bracewell to the Ironside.

"Yes," the Ironside replied.

"Until the Germans have been _utterly_ smashed?"

"Yes."

"And what is your ultimate aim?"

"To win the war!" it replied.

The journey back to Churchill's office was made in silence, until the Doctor demanded, "I need to see the blueprints for these..._Ironsides_." The pause before the Doctor spoke made it clear that he was used to addressing them in another manner.

The moment the blueprints were on Churchill's desk, the Doctor began pawing through them, and while doing so, he talked to Churchill.

"They're Daleks! They're called Daleks!" He said, urging Churchill to believe him. Kurt stood on the other side of the table to them, watching the two powerful men argue.

"They are Bracewell's Ironsides, Doctor! Look, Blueprints, statistics, field-tests, photographs. He invented them!" Churchill tapped each file or paper as he named it.

"Invented them?" The Doctor breathed, and then, gathering volume and sureness, "Oh, no, no, no!"

"Yes," Churchill nodded surely. "He approached one of our brass hats a few months ago. Fella's a genius!"

"Doctor, maybe you should listen to him..."

"Shh!" The Doctor rudely shushed Kurt. Kurt sniffed and tossed his hair.

"Don't listen to him then," he muttered.

"He didn't invent them. They're alien," the Doctor continued in a quiet, hard voice. Kurt felt his eyes widen. _Why would aliens look like pepper pots and have plungers on them?_

"Alien?" An Ironside/Dalek glided by the room, and the Doctor's eyes flickered to it, but he didn't turn. Kurt saw its head swivel, and it take in the room, then glide away, past some stairs.

"And totally hostile," the Doctor continued once the Ironside/Dalek was out of earshot. Kurt decided to just think of it as a Pepper Pot, it was easier, until they sorted this out.

"_Precisely_! They will help me win the war!" Churchill turned over a blueprint to reveal a propaganda poster, but not one Kurt recognised- it was a giant Pepper Pot, and in purple letters across the top, it read- _TO VICTORY! _

"Why won't you listen?" The Doctor was pleading with Churchill as they walked down the same hall as they had earlier. "Why call me if you won't listen?"

"When I rang you a month ago," Churchill said, removing his cigar, "I must admit, I had my doubts. The Ironsides seemed too good to be true."

"Yes! Right! So destroy them! Exterminate them!" The Doctor urged, an almost maniacal glint in his eyes.

Kurt saw a Pepper Pot glide towards them, watching them walk by.

"But imagine what I could do with a hundred! A thousand!" Churchill barked. He seemed to be losing his patience with the Doctor.

"I _am_ imagining!" The Doctor's voice was also angry. "Kurt, tell him!"

"Tell him what?" Kurt frowned.

"About the Daleks!"

"How should I know about the Daleks?"

"They invaded your world, remember?" The Doctor looked into his eyes seriously. "Planets in the sky, you don't forget that! Kurt..." his voice turned stern and worried, "tell me you remember the Daleks." He shook his head.

"Nope, sorry." He gave a nervous laugh, then bit upon his lip. _Should I remember? Stupid question, obviously I should. But why don't I? Is there something wrong with me?_ They looked at each other, not blinking.

"That's not possible..." He half turned to go into the room, still meeting his eyes, and then ducked inside, leaving Kurt worrying in the hallway, then he shook off his fears. _It might have been when I was passed out drunk in bed when me and Blaine argued for the first time. Probably that. I was dead to the world. _

When Kurt walked into the room, he recognised Breen from earlier. "And 6...2357 over! 2357, over!" She was saying, but he quickly drowned out the noise and began listening to the Doctor, who was hovering at the side of the room, merely watching the Pepper Pots and humans working together.

"So they're up to something, but what is it? What are they after?"

"Well, let's go ask, shall we?" He leant over, and then walked over to the nearest Pepper Pot.

"Kurt! Delilah Bell!" He turned and raised an eyebrow, then continued walking. He tapped the Pepper Pot on the side.

"Can I be of assistance?" Asked the Pepper Pot.

Kurt felt a flash of fear as the eyestalk was shoved in his face, but pushed it away.

"Oh. Yes. Yes! See, my friend reckons you're dangerous. That you're an alien. Is it true?" He fidgeted a little.

"I am your soldier."

"Yeah. Got that bit. Love a squaddie. What else, though?"

"Please excuse me. I have duties to perform." The Pepper Pot wandered away, and Kurt turned back to the Doctor, who was talking to Churchill.

"Winston, Winston, please." He was begging the man again. These Pepper Pots had to be really dangerous to make the Doctor plead.

"We are waging total war, Doctor! Day after day, the Luftwaffe pound this great city like an iron fist."

"Wait till the Daleks get started."

"Men, women and children slaughtered. Wren's churches in flames." Churchill sounded sad.

"Yeah? Try the Earth in flames!"

"I weep for my country, I weep for my Empire. It is breaking my heart." he moved around the table during this.

" But you're resisting, Winston! The whole world knows you're resisting! You're a beacon of hope." The Doctor placed his hands on the man's shoulders. Kurt began to follow, shamelessly eavesdropping.

Churchill moaned, "But for how long?" while signing some papers passed to him by a stern looking woman, and began to walk again. "Millions of innocent lives will be saved if I use these Ironsides now!"

"Can I be of assistance?" A Pepper Pot droned.

"Shut it!" The Doctor snapped at it, and then turned to Churchill. "Listen to me. Just listen! The Daleks have no conscience, no mercy, no pity. They are my oldest and deadliest enemy. You cannot trust them!" His voice was no more than a whisper, but Kurt caught the man's voice.

"If Hitler invaded hell, I would give a favourable reference to the Devil! These machines are our salvation!" Kurt heard another siren. "The all-clear. We are safe. For now!"

"Doctor, are you okay?"

"What does hate look like, Kurt?" The Doctor asked, twirling a cap in his hands.

"Hate?" He thought about Kartofsky's eyes, and so many others'. "I don't know. Cold, I suppose. Impersonal."

"Hate looks like a Dalek. And I'm going to prove it." The Doctor turned the cap in his hands once more, placed it on a desk and then walked out of the room, not looking back.

Kurt followed, a bad feeling in his gut. He didn't know what was going to happen, but it was going to be bad. He could feel it.


	12. Victory Of The Daleks Part Two

Kurt caught the following ends of a conversation when he entered Bracewell's office. The Doctor was wandering around, poking his nose into things, while Kurt watched, amused, and then Doctor spoke, "All right, Prof! The PM's been filling me in. Amazing things, these Ironsides of yours. Amazing. You must be very proud of them."

"Just doing my bit," Shrugged the scientist from where he was working, barely looking up to talk to them.

"I'd want to do my bit as well," Kurt shrugged, and began reading the files over the Doctor's shoulders.

"Yes, I am glad I can do something for my country." Bracewell smiled at Kurt as the Doctor plopped into a chair and began reading a file.

"How did you do it? Come up with the idea, I mean." The Doctor asked, still reading.

"How does the muse of invention come to anyone?" Bracewell shrugged. The Doctor tossed the file onto the desk behind him.

"You get a lot of these clever notions, do you?"

"Ideas just seem to _teem_ from my head!" Bracewell shook his hands near his ears. "Wonderful things! Like, er, let me show you..." he reached for some files. "Some musings on the potential of hypersonic flight. Gravity bubbles that could sustain life outside of the terrestrial atmosphere! Came to me in the bath!"

"The best things come to you when you're in the bath," Kurt offered helpfully. "Once, I had an idea for a Just Dance/ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun mash up there..." The two scientific men stared at him. He hmphed. "Just saying. I'll show you it sometime, Doctor."

"And are these your ideas or theirs?"

"No, no, no. These robots are entirely under my control, Doctor." A Pepper Pot brought the Professor his tea. "Ah, thank you!" Kurt grimaced. He _hated _tea. "The perfect servant, the perfect warrior!"

"I don't know what you're up to, Professor, but whatever they've promised, you cannot trust them! Call them what you like, the Daleks are death!" He was staring into the shorter man's eyes as he said this, and wagged a finger in the man's face.

"Yes, Doctor!" Churchill came in, followed by another Pepper Pot. "Death to our enemies! Death to the forces of darkness, and death to the Third Reich!"

"Yes, Winston, and death to everyone else too!"

"Would you care for some tea?" Asked a Pepper Pot.

The Doctor violently smashed his hand on the tray, upsetting it and making it fall to the floor. Everyone took a step back apart from Kurt, who stepped forward, placing a hand on the Doctor's arm as the other man shouted. "Stop this! What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"Doctor..." Kurt's voice went unnoticed.

"We seek only to help you," the Pepper Pot said.

"To do what?"

"To win the war."

"Oh really." He said, disbelievingly. "Which war?"

"I do not understand."

"This war, against the Nazis? Or your war? The war against the rest of the Universe? The war against all life-forms that are not Dalek?"

"I do not understand. I am your soldier."

"Oh yeah? Okay." Kurt moved backwards quickly as the Doctor picked up a spanner. He was scared now. "Okay, soldier, _defend yourself!_" He began whacking the Pepper Pot with the spanner.

"Doctor, what the devil...?" Bracewell asked.

"You do not require tea?" This, for some reason, made Kurt laugh. He was scared of the man before him, who was hitting the Pepper Pot with hatred in his eyes, but he was amused by the Pepper Pot's comment.

"Stop it! Prime Minister, Please!"

"Doctor, please, those machines are precious!" Churchill sounded very stern.

"Now COME ON! Fight back! You know you want to, don't you?" He dragged the eyestalk to look at him. "You know you do!"

"I must protest!"

Kurt flinched at every bang.

"What are you waiting for?" The Doctor stepped back and started slapping himself. "You hate me. You want to kill me. Well, go on! Kill me." His voice grew from clam to a shout. "_Kill me!_" He jumped forward and struck with the hammer again.

"Doctor, be careful!" Kurt came and pulled him back.

"Please desist from striking me. I am your soldier." The Doctor, however, did not let the Pepper Pot finish it's sentence.

"You!" Hit. "Are!" Hit. "My!" Hit. "Enemy!" This time he did not hit it. "And I am yours!" He practically screamed at the Dalek. "You are everything I despise! The worst thing in all creation." He was no longer shouting, but talking softly in a voice that dripped with hatred. "I've defeated you time and time again, I've defeated you. I sent you back into the void! I saved the whole of reality from you! I am the Doctor! And you are the Daleks!" He jumped and kicked the Pepper Pot where, in a human, would be its chest, Kurt decided. The Pepper Pot flew backwards (clearly, the Doctor was stronger than he looked) and it's dome span and it's laser and plunger moved back and forth. Suddenly, all movement stopped and it's dome spun back to face them.

"Correct," the Dalek (it was obviously a Dalek, the Doctor had been so full of rage at it that it couldn't possibly be anything but, and it had just confirmed it) said and moved forward. It's eyestalk turned to face the second Dalek in the room. "Review testimony."

The Doctor's voice rang out, on replay, replaying his last sentences 'I am the Doctor, and you are the Daleks!'. The real Doctor spoke.

"Testimony? What are you talking about, testimony?"

The second Dalek spoke. "Transmitting testimony now."

"Transmitting what, where?"

After a few moments of silence, the second Dalek spoke again. "Testimony accepted."

"Get back, all of you!" The Doctor said, pushing Kurt and Bracewell behind him.

"Marines! Marines!" Yelled Churchill. "Get in here!"

Two marines ran in, and the first Dalek turned and killed the two, quickly and efficiently. Kurt gasped, and grabbed the Doctor's arm. Two men, dead. Just like that. He shook his head. There would be time later.

"Stop it! Stop it please! What are you doing?" Bracewell shouted. "You are my Ironsides!"

"Obviously they aren't," Kurt said dryly, falling back into sarcasm and dry humour to cover up his shock and pain.

"We are the Daleks," a Dalek said.

"But I created you!"

"No," the Dalek said, and fired a shot towards Bracewell. It hit his hand, taking it clean off, and leaving behind a mess of wires. "_We_ created _you_." Bracewell fell against some machines, whimpering and staring in shock at his hand. Kurt felt the bizarre urge to laugh again- he was obviously going crazy. This week could not get any stranger- he had been taken away from his home, his boyfriend, and onto a space ship where he had been vomited out by a giant whale, then he had saved the whale, nearly been eaten by plants, and now he was in World War Two, with Churchill, seeing a man-that-wasn't-a-man being shot by creatures he was supposed to know about.

Sometimes, Kurt wondered if he had gone insane, possibly from the hideousness of Rachel Berry's jumpers. He jumped when the Daleks began chanting in unison.

"Victory! Victory! Victory!" They then disappeared in a glow of white and blue light.

Silence. Kurt decided to break it. "Well, that was unexpected. So, what just happened, or did I finally go insane from the sheer disgrace to fashion that is Rachel Berry's bubble sweater?"

"I wanted to know what they wanted, what their plan was. I was their plan!" Shock laced his voice.

"If we were a TV drama, dramatic music would _so _be playing right now," Kurt said, and then followed the Doctor as he ran out of the room.

"Hey!" He shouted, running as fast as his legs would carry him past people and down the halls to the TARDIS.

"Doctor!"

"Testimony accepted, that's what they said. My testimony!"

"You were right, though. So, is this what we do now?"

"This is what I do."

"You are taking me with you." Kurt stated defiantly. "Don't say it's dangerous! Your life is dangerous! Hell, even crossing the road is dangerous!" Kurt didn't notice Churchill move into the room. "Don't leave me behind, Doctor! I swear to god if you leave me behind when you come back I will make your life _hell_!"

"No."

"Doctor, I need to come. What if you need backup there, wherever you're going?"

"I won't." The Doctor came to stand in front of Kurt. "Kurt. Little Delilah Bell. I have lost too many people to the Daleks to lose you to them too." He hugged Kurt, and then moved to the TARDIS, and it took off, leaving two silent men in its wake.

"What does he expect us to do now?" Kurt said, exasperated, after a moment.

"KBO, of course."

"What?"

"Keep buggering on," Churchill said, taking a puff on his cigar.

The two stood there for a second longer, and were about to leave when the girl from earlier, Breen, hurried in.

"Prime Minister?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"Signal from RDF, sir. Unidentified object. Hanging in the sky, Captain Childers says. We can't get a proper fix, though. It's too far up." Kurt stood quickly.

"What do you think? The Doctor's in trouble and now we know where he is!" Churchill turned to Kurt.

"Yeah. Cos he'll be on that ship, won't he? Right in the middle of everything." A smile broke out on Kurt's face.

"Exactly!" Churchill said, waving the paper.

The three hurried back to the map room, where they found an Officer desperately trying to turn off the lights. "The generators won't switch off! The lights are on all across London, Prime Minister!" the officer called.

"Got to be the Daleks," Kurt said.

"The Germans can see every inch of the city. We're sitting ducks. Get those lights out before the Germans get here!" Churchill said, sounding afraid. A man went to check the generators, and a woman and Breen were talking into headsets.

"Thousands will die if we don't put those lights out _now!_" Kurt whispered. Churchill nodded.

"German bombers sighted over the Channel, sir. ETA 10 minutes, sir," Breen said.

"Here they come. Get a message to Mr Attlee. War Cabinet meeting at 0300-if we're all still here," Churchill shouted the first part of his message, but murmured the last- he had to stay positive.

"We can't just sit here! We have to take the fight to the Daleks! The Doctor can't do this alone!" Kurt said.

"How? None of our weapons are a mach for theirs!" And then it clicked.

"Yeah, but we have some Dalek technology! We have a gift from the Daleks!"

Hurrying down the hallway to Bracewell's lab, Kurt explained his plan. Entering and seeing the scientist holding a gun to his head, Kurt marched over and snatched it.

"Bracewell, but the gun down!" Barked Churchill.

"My life is a lie," he whispered in reply, "and I choose to end it."

"In your own time, because right now, we need your help," Kurt said, eyebrow raised. "You said you wanted to do your bit, right? Well, you can do it even more now!"

"But those creatures...my Ironsides…they made me? I... I can remember things, so many things. The last war- The squalor and the mud and the awful, awful misery of it all. What am I? What am I?"

"What you are, sir, is either on our side, or theirs. Now, I don't give a damn if you're a machine, Bracewell... Are you a man?"

"I understand," Kurt said. "I really do. I get what it's like to be different. But right now, there is a ship up there lighting up London like a Christmas Tree and thousands of people will die tonight if we don't stop it. You're the only one who can help us take it down."

"I am?"

"You're alien technology. You're as clever as the Daleks are, so start thinking! What about rockets? You got rockets? Cos you said gravity whatsits, hypersonic flight, some kind of missile." Kurt said, rambling in his excitement.

"This isn't a fireworks party! We need a proper...tactical..." Churchill trailed off. "A missile...Wait, send something up there, you say?"

"Yes," nodded Bracewell. "With a gravity bubble, it's theoretically possible we could send something into space." Churchill grabbed some papers to look through.

"Bracewell...it's time to think big!" Churchill said, slapping the papers on the desk, and beginning to outline the plan.


	13. Victory Of The Daleks Part Three

In the map room, Churchill and Kurt listened to Breen and her colleagues talk into their headphones and watching them move representations of flying squadrons. Kurt brushed away the dust that fell onto him as the city was bombed. The tannoy announced: 'Advancing bombers approaching in strike formation. Incendiary bombs have hit the East End of London. '

Bracewell entered the room, his arm in a sling, and he was pushing a wheeled office chair with a device on it. He also wore a headset.

"At last! Are they ready?"

"I hope so. In the meantime..." he placed the device on the desk and banged it, "this will pick up Dalek transmissions." He slapped it again, and after the snow cleared up, it showed a black and white picture of the Doctor and a giant Dalek.

"Looks like he has new company," Kurt mused.

The Dalek began to talk, "Scientist, Strategist, Drone, Eternal, and the Supreme."

"Which would be you," the Doctor said, "I'm guessing. Well, you know, nice paint job. I'd be feeling pretty swish if I looked like you. Pretty "Supre-eme"."

"New company," Kurt said. "We've got to hurry!"

The green phone in front of Bracewell rang, and he picked it up. The man listened for a moment, and then said, "ready when you are, Prime Minister!"

"Splendid!" Said Churchill, and Bracewell showed them the screen.

"Ship's exact co-ordinates located!"

"Go to it, Group Captain!" Churchill ordered a man. "Go to it!"

"Broadsword to Danny Boy, Broadsword to Danny Boy! Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!" He shouted.

Kurt paid no attention to this, however, and he carried on watching the screen, showing the Doctor facing off against the Daleks.

"Question is, what do we do now? Either you turn off your clever machine or I'll blow you and your new paradigm into eternity."

"And yourself," the Dalek said.

"Occupational Hazard," the Doctor stated.

And then another Dalek came forwards, and Kurt shivered as it said, "Scan reveals nothing! TARDIS self-destruct device non-existent!"

"Alright, it's a Jammy Dodger," the Doctor said, taking a bite out of the treat. he continued speaking with his mouth full. "But I was promised tea!"

The Dalek that had scanned the Doctor moved out of the screen, but it's voice carried.

"Alert! Unidentified projectile approaching! Correction. Multiple projectiles!" The Doctor hurried over to a screen, heading out of the view of the screen.

"What have the humans done?" Asked the white Dalek.

"I don't know!"

"Explain! Explain! Explain!" Suddenly, a voice came over a radio and Kurt looked up.

"Yes!" He exclaimed. "They're up there, they're okay!"

"Danny Boy to the Doctor, Danny Boy to the Doctor! Are you receiving me? Over."

"Oh, Winston, you beauty!"

"Danny Boy to the Doctor, come in, Over." The Doctor pranced around, and shouted to the Pilot:

"Loud and clear, Danny Boy! Big dish, side of the ship, blow it up! Over!"

Kurt was still watching on the screen. He saw the Daleks fire at the Doctor and saw him get away. He saw the screen change to show the red dots that were their planes surrounding the Dalek ship, flying in tight formation.

"4-4 to Danny Boy, target the dish and stop that signal."

"Over. Understood sir. Over."

"You can count on us, sir. Over."

Kurt listened to the pilots, and a woman said, "oh, good luck, lads!"

Kurt listened as they went in, and heard one of the ships explode. Breen looked on in worry, and he wondered if she knew someone up there.

"We've lost Jubilee, sir. Over." One of the pilots said over the radio.

"Beam still active, sir," said the Group Captain.

"Then send them in again," Churchill ordered. Kurt watched as the planes regrouped, and then flew back towards the Dalek ship.

"Flintlock's down, sir," came a pilot's voice. Kurt winced, another life lost. "The dish seems to be protected."

Soon, there was silence, and they watched tensely as the red dot that was their one plane fly around the ship.

"Direct hit, sir!" Called the Group Captain.

Everyone cheered, the deaths seemingly forgotten in the light of this new event. Kurt knew that the men who had given their lives trying to fight off the Daleks would have only done so against the Germans anyway, but it felt so much more personal when he was there.

The map room's inhabitants were pouring over the screen, making sure that the one remaining pilot returned to Earth safely when the Doctor ran in. Kurt stepped up to him, as did Bracewell, but the Doctor ignored Kurt and punched Bracewell in the face, knocking him to the floor.

"DOCTOR!" Shouted Kurt, hurrying to Bracewell's side, "what was that for?"

"Sorry, Professor, you're a bomb!" The Doctor shouted. "An inconceivably massive Dalek bomb."

"WHAT?" Shrieked Kurt, drowning out Bracewell's weak question.

"There's an Oblivion Continuum inside you - a captured wormhole that provides perpetual power. Detonate that, and the Earth will bleed through into another dimension!" Kurt's eyes were wide, and he helped the Doctor pull open Bracewell's shirt, "Now keep down!" The Doctor shouted, and Kurt's eyes widened further when the Doctor waved his screwdriver over the man's chest and panels slid back, revealing a circular pad in Bracewell's golden chest. One of the originally blue sections turned yellow.

"Well?" Kurt demanded. "What do we do?"

"Dunno, never seen one up close before!" The Doctor fired back.

"So, he's a bomb." Kurt's voice was full of disbelief.

"A walking, talking," here, the Doctor waved his hands and made an explosion sound effect noise, "_exploding_ bomb! The moment that," he pointed at the circular panel, "flashes red."

"There's... a blue wire or something you have to cut, isn't there? There's always a blue wire! Or a red one... I could ring Puck, he might know...Wait, Puck hasn't even been born yet!"

"You're not helping!" The Doctor shouted.

"It's incredible. He talked to us about his memories. The Great War..." The Doctor began to speak quickly.

"Someone else's stolen thoughts, implanted in a positronic brain." A pause. "Tell me about your life, Bracewell. Tell me all about it." He knelt by the man, and Kurt knelt by the Doctor.

"Doctor, I don't think this is the time..." Bracewell began.

"Tell me and prove you're human. Tell me everything! What did your family do?"

"My family ran the Post Office. It's a little place just near the abbey. Just by the ash trees. There used to be eight trees but...but there was a storm." The yellow light flashed red, and another blue light next to it turned yellow.

"And your parents?" The Doctor prompted.

"Good people, kind people. They died...Scarlet fever."

"What was that like? How did it feel?"

"Please..." Kurt knew how Bracewell felt. He didn't talk about his mother, it hurt too much.

"Tell me! Tell me how it made you feel!"

"It hurt. It hurts, Doctor, so badly. Like a wound." The second section turned red, and the third yellow. "It was worse than a wound. It was like I'd been emptied out. There was nothing." Kurt's eyes shimmered. That was how it had felt to him, too.

"Good. Remember it now, Professor! The ash trees by the Post Office and your mum and dad and losing them and men in the trenches you saw die... Remember it! Feel it, because you're human. You're not like them. You are not like the Daleks!"

The third section turned red and the fourth yellow.

"It hurts, Doctor! It hurts so badly!"

"Good! Good! Good! Brilliant! Embrace it." The fourth section turned red. "That means you're alive! They cannot explode that bomb, you're a human being! You are flesh and blood! They cannot explode that bomb! Believe it! You are Professor Edwin Bracewell! And you, my friend, are a human being!" The fifth section turned red. "It's not working, I can't stop it!"

Kurt realised. He leant forward, over Bracewell's head. "Hey... Edwin. Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't?" He said softly. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Kurt noticed the last section was still yellow. He remembered his crush on Finn. "But kind of a good hurt."

"I really shouldn't talk about her," Bracewell said.

"Oh," Kurt said, as though this was a juicy piece of gossip, "there's a 'her'?" The last section went back to being blue.

"What was her name?" Asked the Doctor quietly.

"Dorabella," replied Bracewell, a soft smile on his face.

"_Dorabella_?" the Doctor repeated, incredulously. "That's a lovely name." He said quickly.

"It's a beautiful name," Kurt nodded. "What was she like, Edwin?" He prompted, his voice still a whisper.

Bracewell's voice was dreamy, "Oh...she had such a smile. And her eyes...her eyes were so blue, almost violet...Like the last touch of sunset at the end of the world..."

Every section of the bomb reverted to blue. The Doctor and Kurt looked at one another, wonder shining in Kurt's eyes.

"Welcome to the human race," the Doctor said softly. "You're brilliant!" He said to Churchill, and then pointing at Bracewell, "You're brilliant, and you..." He grabbed Kurt's head and kissed him on the forehead. He then jumped up, ran to the doorway, and shouted, "Now, gotta stop em! Gotta stop the Daleks!"

"Wait! Doctor, wait. It's too late," Bracewell said, "they're gone."

"What?" The Doctor whispered after a few seconds of silence.

"Gone. They've gone."

"No, no, no! They can't! They can't have got away from me again!"

"They've gone, I can feel it. My mind is clear," Bracewell said. The Doctor leant against a pole, all of the manic energy usually there was drained from his body.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said softly, putting a hand on the Doctor's arm. "I really am."

"I had a choice. And they knew I'd choose the Earth. The Daleks have won. They beat me. They've won."

"You saved the Earth. That's not too shabby, is it?" The Doctor looked around the room and everyone smiled at him, relief on their faces. Kurt's hand gravitated to his hip.

"Is it?"

"No," the Doctor said, a smile slowly stretching across his face. "Not too shabby."

Everyone shared smiles.

"It's a brilliant achievement, my dear friend. Here, have a cigar!" Churchill produced a cigar from the inner pocket of his suit.

"No," the Doctor waved it away, and Kurt could tell that behind the facade he had put up, the Doctor was still very hurt and worried by his loss.

After a few moments, Kurt asked, "What are you going to do now, then?"

"I still have a war to run," the Prime Minister said. A woman walked over.

"Prime Minister," she said, handing him a document.

"Thank you." He read the document and he commented to Kurt, "They hit the Palace and Saint Paul's again. Fire crews only just saved it."

Kurt looked over and saw Breen enter, crying. "Is she okay?"

"What?" Asked the Prime Minister.

"She looks very upset," he said, jerking his head towards Breen.

"Oh, Miss Breen? Her young man didn't make it, I'm afraid. Just got word. Shot down over the Channel."

Kurt walked over to Breen.

"Hey," he said softly. "It sounds stupid, but are you okay?"

She sniffed. "I've been better," she said, a watery smile on her lips. "I'm Sheila," she smiled. "Sheila Breen."

"Kurt Hummel," he offered her his hand. "I'm really sorry for your loss."

She gave another little sob and he held her in a hug.

"Kurt?" The Doctor's voice came to Kurt from behind him. "We have to go."

"Okay. Goodbye, Sheila Breen," he said to the woman beside him. He let her go and turned to the Doctor. "Let's go, then."

Kurt watched as the Doctor and Churchill hugged, saying their goodbyes.

"Goodbye, Prime Minister Churchill," Kurt said, shaking the man's hand. Churchill turned to walk away when Kurt realised something.

"Excuse me! Churchill!" He called.

"Yes?"

"Please may we have the TARDIS key you just nicked from the Doctor back?" The Doctor choked on the tea Kurt hadn't noticed he was drinking.

"He's a sharp one, Doctor. Sharp as a pin. Almost as sharp as me!" Churchill gave back the key, and Kurt took it with a smile. "KBO!" Churchill said with a smile, and then walked away. The Doctor held out his hand for the key, and Kurt plopped it back in the Doctor's hand with a roll of his eyes.

When the Doctor and Kurt reached Bracewell's office, he was stood by his desk, wearing a leather glove over the mass of wires that had been his hand. "I have been waiting for this moment, Doctor," Bracewell said. "I knew it had to come."

"Moment?" Asked the Doctor.

"It's time to de-activate me," Bracewell said.

"Is it?" Kurt elbowed the Doctor. "Oh...yeah..."

"You have no choice. I'm Dalek technology. Can't allow me to go pottering around down here where I have no business."

"No, you're dead right, Professor." He sneaked a look at Kurt. "100% right. And by the time I get back here in... what, ten minutes?"

"More like fifteen," Kurt said, an amused smirk on his face, "maybe twenty."

"Fifteen minutes, yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do. You are going to be so de-activated. It's going be like you've never even been... activated." Kurt waited for the man to get the hint.

He didn't.

"Yeah," Kurt said.

"Fifteen or twenty minutes?" Bracewell asked. _Maybe he is getting it,_ Kurt thought.

"More like, oh, twenty five? Once me and Bell have seen that...very...important...thing we have to..._see_," the Doctor said the last word pointedly. Still the man didn't seem to get it.

"Very well, Doctor. I shall wait here and prepare myself."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "He's a bit slow on the uptake, isn't he? That very important thing we've got to do, it's going to take half an hour, maybe forty five minutes, right Doctor?" He said loudly, urging the Professor to get it with his eyes.

"Easily," the Doctor said, "So no running off, that's what I'm saying. Don't go trying to find that little Post Office with the ash trees or that girl... What was her name?"

"Dorabella," Kurt supplied.

"Dorabella, that's it! On no account go looking for her. Mind you, you can get a lot done in half an hour." Bracewell, _finally_, seemed to get it, as he laughed when he realised what the Doctor was doing.

"Thank you, thank you, Doctor!" Bracewell smiled happily.

"Come along, Bell," the Doctor said, and they began to walk. As they reached the room with the TARDIS in it, Kurt broached the subject he'd been dying to bring up since the Doctor had seen the Daleks.

"So, you have enemies, then?"

"Everyone's got enemies," the Doctor said as he walked up to the TARDIS. He stopped as Kurt walked up and leant against the TARDIS.

"Yeah, but mine is, like, Rachel Berry's sweaters and Dave Kartofsky and Wal-Mart. Yours are like Arch-Enemies. Which I suppose Wal-Mart is to me, but..."

"Suppose so," the Doctor said, leaning against the TARDIS with Kurt.

"And here's me thinking we'd just be wandering around space and time, being swallowed by Star Whales and going shopping and being daft all the time...It's dangerous."

"Yep. Very. Is that a problem?"

"It was dangerous going to school for me," Kurt smirked. "And I'm still here, aren't I?" They paused a moment, having a giggle together. "You're worried about the Daleks."

"I'm always worried about the Daleks," the Doctor said, closing his eyes briefly.

"It'll take time, though, won't it? There's still not many of them. They'll need a while to build themselves up."

"Yeah, but that's not it. There's something else, something we've forgotten. Or rather, you have."

"Me?" Kurt wondered.

"You didn't know them, Kurt. You'd never seen them before. And you should have done. You should." Kurt was rooted to the spot as the Doctor walked back into the TARDIS. Kurt knew that something was wrong, the bad feeling in his gut gnawing away at his insides, but he knew something would happen. The Doctor could, would, sort it..._right?_

_**Hi guys, it's funkyorange,**_

_**Just a little reminder to please review, and I'm glad this story has got such a positive reaction! I was very nervous when taking it over from MaeEmma, so I'm glad that you're all saying I'm doing a good job! If I'm not, please don't hesitate to leave constructive criticism.**_

_**Love, funky xxxx**_

_**PS: I hope I got the Americanisms right- I've tried to put them in, but it's really hard to do so because I'm British. Hope it's not annoying you, as I don't have a beta to look for these mistakes, but I quite like not having one...It makes me feel like my writing is more personal, from my hand to your eyes. I do look things over, though, but I sometimes miss stuff...but I'll shut up now. **_

_**PPS: I sorted out the 'Kurt/Amy' mistake. Thanks for pointing that out, bookster1!**_


	14. Time Of The Angels Part One

Kurt watched the Doctor stride through the museum he had insisted on taking him to.

"Wrong," the Doctor declared, barely glancing at the display. "Wrong," he said again, "bit right," he allowed, "but mostly wrong. I love museums."

"Because you can pick apart their collections and make them look stupid?" Kurt suggested. "Let's go, I want to see a planet. Whole of time and space, you told me, and you've taken me to a museum."

"What about Churchill's bunker? Shopping? Spaceships?" The Doctor asked, giving a small pout. "Anyway, it's not just any old museum, Kurt. It's the Delerium Archive, final resting place of the headless monks, the biggest museum ever." Kurt ignored the comment about the 'headless monks' and argued more.

"You have a _time machine,_ why do you need museums? Come on, it'd be way more fun going to see the events as they happened." The Doctor ignored this, and when he saw something that looked like a model of something he roared,

"WRONG! Also wrong," he continued, and then said "ooh, one of mine! Also one of mine…"

"Oh, I see! It's how you keep score!" Kurt said, letting out a little giggle and peering more closely at the item on display. He looked up when he realised the Doctor wasn't with him. "Doctor?" The Doctor was staring intently at an old box. "Oh great, an old box," he said, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice at the Doctor's look.

"It's not just an old box," the Doctor said, "It's from one of the old starliners. A Home Box."

"A Home Box?" Asked Kurt, curiosity piqued.

"Like a black box on a plane, except it homes. Anything happens to the ship, the Home Box flies home, with all the flight data."

"That's actually pretty awesome, but what's so big about this one?"

"The writing, the _graffiti_. It's in old high Gallifreyan. The lost language of the Time Lords."

"Your people?" Kurt asked, itching with curiosity.

"My people," the Doctor confirmed. "There were days, there were many days, these words could burn stars and raise up empires, and topple Gods."

"Wow. What does this say, though?" Kurt asked, now burning with curiosity.

The Doctor looked annoyed, and said, with equal annoyance in his tone, "Hello Sweetie." His words echoed around the room.

"No!" Kurt said, a laugh escaping him. "No way!"

"Yes way. Now come on!" With these words, the Doctor waved his sonic screwdriver around the glass container and opened it up. He took out the box, and an alarm began to wail. "I would suggest we run," said the Doctor, but for once Kurt was ahead of him, and he was already racing back to the TARDIS. Hurrying inside, the Doctor began to fix the box up to the console.

"Why are we doing this again?" Kurt asked, wanting to help but at the same time hanging back, knowing the Doctor would just get annoyed with him trying to help out.

"Cos someone on a space ship 12,000 years ago is trying to attract my attention. Let's see if we can get the security playback working." He began to fiddle with the box and a woman appeared on the screen, pushing down her sunglasses and winking at the camera, like she knew they were watching. It skipped to the same woman by a door. A man, out of the camera's sight, said, "Party's over, Doctor Song, yet you're still on board." The 'Doctor Song' turned around to face the man.

"Sorry, Alistair," she said, "I needed to see what was in your vault. Do you all know what's down there? Any of you?" She asked, her voice slow and silky. "Because I'll tell you something. This ship won't reach it's destination."

"Wait till she runs," the man's voice, cold and harsh, spoke once more. "Don't make it look like an execution."

Doctor Song looked at her watch. "Triple-seven, five, slash, three, four, nine by ten, zero, twelve, slash acorn. Oh, and I could use an air corridor." The Doctor frantically began pressing buttons and Kurt looked up from the monitor.

"What did she say?"

"Coordinates!" He shouted, pressing a button.

"Like I said on the dance floor," Doctor Song said with a sly smirk, "you might want to find something to hang on to."

As the TARDIS flew, on the screen a timer began to ding. The woman smirked again and blew the men a kiss, and the camera only caught her flying out into space. The Doctor let out a whoop and ran over to the doors, opening them and sticking a hand out. The woman from the ship flew into the TARDIS, landing on top of the Doctor and knocking both the Doctor and herself to the ground.

"Doctor?" Kurt asked.

"River," the Doctor breathed. They both stood, and all three of them turned to the TARDIS doors, watching the ship.

"Follow that ship," said the mysterious Doctor River Song.


	15. Time Of The Angels Part Two

oKurt flopped into one of the seats by the console and watched River Song and the Doctor fly the TARDIS. "So, how do you know each other then?"

"Not helping, Kurt!" The Doctor muttered, flinging himself around the console.

"They've gone into warp drive!" River shouted. "We're losing them, stay close!"

"I'm trying!"

"Use the stabilisers!"

"There aren't any stabilisers!" Kurt's eyebrows flew up into his hair. He didn't want to interrupt, though, as they were bickering like an old married couple. _Maybe that's what they are,_ he realised.

"The blue switches!" River said, in the tone one would use to point out something very obvious.

"The blue ones don't do anything, they're just..._Blue_!" The Doctor said, frustrated.

"Yes, they're _blue_, they're the _blue stabilisers!_" River sounded just as frustrated as the Doctor. She banged a blue button and the ship quietened. "See?" River said smugly.

"Yeah...Well," the Doctor began with the air of a child that has just lost an argument, "it's just boring now, isn't it? They're boring-ers. They're blue boring-ers."

"How come she can fly the TARDIS? And knows what everything is?" The unspoken '_unlike you_' hung in the air between them.

"You call _that_ flying the TARDIS? Ha!" He sat down on the seats to sulk.

"Yes, actually. Are you _jealous?_"

"OK. I've mapped the probability vectors, done a fold-back on the temporal isometry, charted the ship to its destination, and parked us right alongside." River finished.

"Parked us? We haven't landed!"

"Yes we have. I just landed her," River looked amused.

"But it didn't make the noise," the Doctor said, "you know, the..." He began to do a poor imitation of the TARDIS' landing noise.

"It's not supposed to make that noise," River replied. "You leave the brakes on." Kurt was officially confused.

"Well, I like that noise, it's a brilliant noise. Come along Bell-"

"If you're going to call me by my last name," Kurt snapped, "at least call me by my _real_ last name."

"Let's have a look," the Doctor finished.

"No, wait! Environment checks!" River said.

"Oh yes, environment checks!" The Doctor stuck his head out of the door. "Nice out."

"We're somewhere in the Garn Belt. There's an atmosphere. Early indications suggest..."

"We're on Alfava Metraxis, the seventh planet of the Dundra System. Oxygen-rich atmosphere, toxins in the soft band, 11-hour day, and..." He stuck his head out again, "chances of rain later."

River said to Kurt, "He thinks he's so hot when he does that." Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"So, how come you can fly the TARDIS?"

"Oh, I had lessons from the _very_ best," she smiled at him.

"Well, yeah," the Doctor's voice came from near Kurt, but he didn't jump.

"It's a pity you were busy that day," River said, and Kurt laughed. "Right then, why did they land here?" She continued.

"They didn't land," the Doctor spoke up again.

"Sorry?" River looked worried.

"You should have checked the home box- it crashed." River stepped outside, and the moment she was out, the Doctor slammed the door shut and went back to the console.

"_Explain_," Kurt demanded. "Who is that and how did she do that museum thing?"

"It's a long story and I don't know most of it," replied the Doctor. "Off we go!"

"What are you doing?"

"She's gone where she wants to go, let's go where we want to go."

"Are you...running away?" Kurt was incredulous. After everything the Doctor had seen, running away from one woman wasn't something he imagined happening.

"Yes," the Doctor responded frankly.

"Why?"

"She's the future, _my _future."

"How do you know that we're not meant to be out there? How do you know that that future isn't now? And did that make sense?"

"Yes. But time is not the boss of me, I can do whatever I like."

Kurt changed track. "That's a planet out there."

"Yes," the Doctor responded.

"You promised me a planet."

"No!"

"Five minutes! Only five minutes!"

"Fine! But only five minutes, because I can tell you now, that woman is not dragging me into anything!"

"Yes!" Kurt clapped his hands together, looking like a child that had received a new toy, a huge smile on his face.

The planet Kurt stepped onto actually looked a lot like Earth, not that he noticed. He was too busy staring at the wreck of the spaceship.

"Can we do anything to help?" He asked quietly.

"What caused them to crash? Not me." River said, ignoring Kurt's question, or maybe not hearing it.

"Nah, the airlock would've sealed seconds after you blew it. According to the Home Box, the warp engines had a phase-shift. No survivors."

"A phase shift? That would mean sabotage. I did warn them."

"About what?" He looked at her.

"At least the building's empty. Aplan temple, unoccupied for centuries." The Doctor walked back to Kurt, who was stood a little behind them, watching.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" He asked.

"Kurt Hummel or Delilah Bell, Professor River Song."

"Oh, I'm going to be a _Professor_ one day, am I? How exciting!" She chuckled. "Spoilers!"

"Yeah, but who is she and how did she do that? She just left you a note in a museum!"

The Doctor hushed Kurt and walked away.

"Two things always guaranteed to turn up in a museum," River said loudly. "The Home Box of a category four starliner and, sooner or later, him. It's how he keeps score."

"I know," Kurt laughed.

"Hilarious, isn't it?"

A sarcastic laugh from behind them brought the Doctor back to their attention. "I'm nobody's taxi service!"

"It worries me you thought of this only now," Kurt said dryly. River laughed but the Doctor ignored him.

"I'm not going to be there every time you feel like jumping out of a spaceship!" Angry hand movements punctuated his statement.

"And you are so wrong. There's one survivor. There's a thing in the belly of that ship that can't ever die. Now he's listening!" She walked away, talking into her device. "You lot in orbit yet? Yeah, I saw it land. Try and home in on my signal." She called to the Doctor, "Doctor, can you sonic me? I need to boost the signal so we can use it as a beacon." As she was speaking, he took out his screwdriver and waved it at her. She gave a small curtsey.

"Ooh Doctor, you _soniced_ her!" He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

River called, "We have a minute. Shall we?" She opened her diary while walking towards them. "Where are we up to? Have we done the Bone Meadows yet?"

"What's the book?" Kurt asked, curiosity rising, and took a step towards it.

"Stay away from it." The Doctor snapped.

"What is it, though?"

"Her diary."

"Our diary," smiled River.

"Her past, my..." he paused, and then gritted out, "future. Time travel, we keep meeting in the wrong order." Kurt nodded, and then turned when a strange noise came from next to River.

Four dust swirls appeared next to her, and then formed into men, each wearing desert camouflage clothing. One of them, the oldest-looking, approached River Song.

"You promised me an army, Doctor Song," he said.

"No, I promised you the _equivalent _of an army. This is the Doctor." The Doctor gave the man a light-hearted salute.

"Father Octavian, sir." He began shaking the Doctor's hand. "Bishop, second class. 20 clerics at my command. The troops are already in the drop ship and landing shortly. Doctor Song was helping us with a covert investigation." They looked at the ship, and Octavian dropped the Doctor's hand. When the Doctor did not reply, he asked, "Has Doctor Song explained what we're dealing with?"

River opened her mouth to speak. "Doctor, what do you know of the Weeping Angels?"

_I am so, so sorry for the long time between updates! It's just I went on holiday to a place without internet and then my computer had to be wiped! It was _horrible!_ So, if anyone here follows my other stories, I'm sorry about the long wait for those, too. _

_funky xxxxxx_


	16. AN

Hi guys,

just a quick thing to say, funkyorange is now on Facebook! If anyone wants to know mini titbits about me and when the next update is coming, be sure to find it!  
>funky xxxx<p> 


	17. Time Of The Angels Part Three extra long

_Hi guys! _

_Wow, I'm sorry for the long wait! Life got pretty crazy for a while, if you know what I mean, so I made this chapter extra long, just for you! Don't expect the next one to be so long, I'm not good at long chapters! _

_Hope you enjoy, and please read and review,_

_funky xxx_

The Doctor's head whipped around. "Kurt, go back to the TARDIS," he ordered, his voice stony.

"Why should I? I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself!" He replied, frowning.

"Not against them," the Doctor muttered.

"Come on, Doctor! We'll get you to camp, tell you all about it. Kurt," River looked at him searchingly, "can do whatever he wants."

Five minutes later, Kurt and the Doctor were following Octavian around a campsite which was crawling with soldiers. Towering stone walls surrounded them, and rocks crunched under their feet. Everything was lit by lamps, giving the large chamber an eerie orange glow.

"The Angel, as far as we know, is still trapped in the ship. Our mission is to get inside and neutralise it. We can't get through up top, we'd be too close to the drives," he explained. They stopped, and Octavian held up a small, handheld device. It was a greenish grey in colour, and upon it a black and white moving picture was shown, presumably the insides of the ship, as he continued, "According to this,behind the cliff face, there's a network of catacombs leading right up to the temple. We can blow through the base of the cliffs, get into the entrance chamber, then make our way up."

"Oh good," the Doctor said cheerily.

"Good, sir?" Octavian asked, obviously confused.

"Catacombs, probably dark ones, dark catacombs, _great!_" The Doctor continued sarcastically.

"Technically, I think it's called a 'Maze of The Dead'," Octavian pointed out. Kurt raised an eyebrow. How…_dramatic. _He liked drama.

"You can stop any time you'd like," The Doctor murmured, and Kurt sniggered.

"Father Octavian!" A soldier called, and Octavian looked around, and back at the Doctor.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, and then turned around and walked away. Kurt felt annoyed he hadn't been asked to excuse the guy, but shrugged. He clearly wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, not like the Doctor.

The moment Octavian's back was turned, the Doctor began sonic-ing the bits and bobs on the table, even picking one up, and for a moment, Kurt thought he was going to lick it (he wouldn't be surprised, this _was_ the man that drank yogurt).

"You're letting people call you _sir_," he teased. "Distracted by the lovely River Song, are we?"

The Doctor frowned and began to fiddle with other items. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Okay." Kurt hopped onto the table, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes. "So, Weeping Angels, eh? Are they bad?"

"Now that's interesting," the Doctor murmured, then turned to Kurt, a frown on his handsome face.

"You're still here. What part of 'go back to the TARDIS' was so confusing?"

"It was the implications," he assured the man. "And what is wrong with you? Are you Mr Grumpy Face today?"

"A Weeping Angel, Kurt, is the deadliest, most powerful, most malevolent life form evolution has ever produced, and one is trapped inside that wreckage and I'm supposed to climb in with a screwdriver and a torch-and assuming I survive the radiation, and the whole ship doesn't blow up in my face-do something clever which I haven't actually thought of yet. That's my day, that's what I'm up to. Any questions?" The Doctor's voice was dark, but Kurt was not intimidated.

"Is River Song your wife?" Kurt asked innocently. The Doctor huffed. He turned and looked away, but Kurt continued talking to his neck. "Cos she's someone from your future, and the way she talks to you, I've never seen anyone do that. She's kind of like, you know, "Heel, boy!" She's Mrs Doctor from the future, isn't she? Is she going to be your wife one day?" He laughed, "Oh, this is good. Reckon I can get her phone number? So I can call her and ask her embarrassing things about you…"

"Shut up," the Doctor muttered. "And you're right, I am most definitely Mr Grumpy Face today."

Kurt threw back his head and laughed.

His laughter was interrupted however by River calling from inside the transport. "Doctor! DOCTOR!"

"Oops! Better go see what your lovely wife wants!" He giggled.

"Father Octavian!" River called to the other man.

"Why do they call him 'Father'?" Kurt wondered as they walked towards the transport.

"He's their Bishop, they're his clerics. It's the 51st Century, the Church has moved on."

Kurt fell silent, pondering this, as they walked into the transport ship.

Inside, River was watching the small, TV-like screen. Upon it, there was a fuzzy, crackling picture of an angel statue. The angel was facing away from them at an angle, its hands covering its face, and it wore a rather beautiful dress. River was controlling the picture with a remote.

"What do you think? It's from the security cameras in the Byzantium vault. I ripped it when I was on board. Sorry about the quality. It's four seconds. I've put it on loop," River explained. The Doctor stuck his face up against the screen.

"Yep, it's an angel."

"You've encountered the angels before?" Asked Father Octavian, from where he lingered at the entrance, as far away from the three as possible.

"Yes. Once, on Earth, a long time ago. But those were scavengers, barely surviving."

"It's just a statue…" Kurt muttered, and then shook his head. "Of course it's not, Kurt, don't be an idiot."

"It's a statue when you see it," River corrected him, looking at him strangely, as though she were…_proud?_ He shook his head, he was imagining things.

"Where did it come from?" The Doctor butted in.

"Oh, pulled from the ruins of Razbahan, end of last century. It's been in private hands ever since, dormant all that time," River said in an offhand manner.

"There's a difference between dormant and patient," the Doctor snapped back.

"Grumpy Face," Kurt sing-songed under his breath. "Anyway, what does that mean, it's a statue when you see it?" He directed this question to River- as mysterious as she was, she seemed to be more open than the Doctor about the strange creatures.

River turned to face him. "They can only move if they're unseen- so legend has it."

"It's not legend, it's a quantum lock." He put his hand on something, and tugged slightly. It ripped off with a faint tearing sound, but the Doctor didn't seem to notice. "In the sight of any living…" he trailed off, while Kurt and River rolled their eyes in sync. "Creature, the angels literally cease to exist," all of this was said slowly while he fiddled with the strap, as if trying to decide what to do with it. "They're just," here he paused, threw the strap away, and continued, "stone. The ultimate defence mechanism."

"What, being a stone?" Kurt said incredulously.

"Being a stone… until you turn your back."

Father Octavian shifted in the silence, and the Doctor took his head away from the screen to smile in a falsely cheery way.

The Doctor hurried towards the door, leading everyone out of the transport ship. As he was walking, he was filling everyone in.

"The hyperdrive would've split on impact. The whole ship will be flooded with radiation, cracked electrons, gravity storms, deadly to almost any living thing." All of this was said very quickly, but Kurt hung back, staring at the picture of the angel.

"Deadly to an angel?" Octavian asked.

"Dinner to an angel," the Doctor replied. "The longer we leave it, the stronger it will grow. Who built that temple? Are they still around?"

"The Aplans." River said, studying her handheld device. "The indigenous life-form. They died out 400 years ago."

"200 years later, the planet was terraformed. Currently there are six billion human colonists," Octavian added.

"You lot, you're everywhere! Like rabbits!" The Doctor shouted. "I'll never get done saving you!"

"Sir, if there is a clear and present danger to the local population..." Octavian began.

"Oh yes, there is. Bad as it gets. Bishop, lock and load!"

Octavian strode off, shouting, "Verger, how we doing with those explosives? Dr Song, with me."

"Two minutes. Sweetie, I need you."

The Doctor mouthed '_sweetie'_, then jumped a little, realising she meant him. He followed her.

"Anyone need me?" He spread his arms. "Nobody?" He crossed his arms. "Fine then." He stepped back inside the transport, wishing he had something to do. He couldn't follow the Doctor around like a puppy, that would be utterly demeaning. He decided to just stand around- anything was better than being a _puppy._

He began watching the CCTV footage. He frowned, noticing something- the angel had turned its head. He stalked forward, deciding not to call the Doctor just yet. He stared at it for a second longer, and then decided it would be better to put his pride at stake and tell someone than risk everyone.

But he wouldn't ask the Doctor…he wouldn't know anyway. That left one person…

He watched the Doctor and River talking.

"I found this. Definitive work on the Angels. Well, the only one. Written by a madman, it's barely readable, but I've marked a few passages." It was a small black book, dusty with age, and the Doctor flicked through it and finished it quickly.

"Not bad, bit slow in the middle, didn't you hate his girlfriend? No, hang on, wait, wait!"

"Doctor Song!" He called.

"Yes?" She asked, ignoring the Doctor who was now sniffing a book.

"Did you have more than one clip of the angel?"

"No, just the four seconds," River replied.

Kurt frowned, puzzled, but went back inside.

"This book is wrong! What's wrong with this book, it's wrong," the Doctor continued to puzzle over the book.

Kurt was back inside, and his eyes fell onto the screen with the angel. He stared at the angel- it had changed position. It was now looking straight at him, arms down at its side, palms towards him. He stared at the time code, confused, but it still jumped from 11:24 to 11:28, but the angel was moving. How? He looked up from the code, and the angel was closer to the screen. He gasped and jumped back.

Kurt was so engrossed in the mystery, he did not hear the door close and lock by itself.

"Oh, it's so strange when you go all baby-face," River said, sounding deathly serious. "How early is this for you?" Now she was amused, and flicked through her blue book.

"Very early," the Doctor muttered, still looking through the book on the angels.

"So you don't know who I am yet!" River sounded delighted.

"How do you know who I am, I don't always look the same." He frowned, concentrating on the book, not the conversation.

"I've got pictures of all your faces. You never show up in the right order though. I need the spotter's guide."

"Pictures!" He sounded as though he had solved a great mystery. "Why aren't there pictures?"

Inside the transport, Kurt was still staring at the angel. Without taking his eyes off it, he picked up the remote and pointed it at the screen. He clicked the off button, and the screen went black briefly, but turned itself back on within the same second. Frowning, he jabbed the button once more, with the same result, and again, and again. Nothing happened. He put it down, and walked back to the screen, staring at the angel. "You're a recording!" He snapped at the screen. "You can't move!" He used the tone of voice that pretty much everyone obeyed. When this tone was used (he was given lessons from Sue Sylvester herself) things happened right away. He didn't know why he was using it now- perhaps because he was really edgy right now, and anger seemed the way to channel his fear and frustration. He began to tug on the wires underneath the screen. He looked up and gave a quiet gasp of fright- the angel was right up against the screen, staring at him. He backed away, very scared now, and certain now was the time to get the hell out and tell the Doctor about this. He walked forward, looked at it, then backed away again and began tugging on the door.

"Doctor," he called, not raising his voice- he wasn't panicking, not yet. He tugged at the door and looked around- the angel! It's face was contorted in an ugly snarl, teeth showing. It had, he noted with a detached air, almost freakishly sharp-looking canines. "Doctor!" His voice came out louder, but he was proud it did not shake.

"This whole book - it's a warning, about the Weeping Angels. So why no pictures? Why not show us what to look out for?" He was frustrated, and unable to hear Kurt's calls- the doors were thick, and sound barely escaped.

"There was that bit about images, what was that?" River asked, slightly anxious.

"Yes! Hang on…" He flipped through the book. "'That which holds the image of an angel becomes itself an angel.'"

Kurt looked once more at the angel- it hadn't moved. "Doctor!"

"What does that mean?" River asked. "'An image of a Angel becomes itself an Angel'."

Kurt looked back at the screen, and to his horror, he saw a holographic image of an angel! "Doctor!" He cried out, truly terrified now. He was tugging at the door.

The Doctor suddenly cried out, "KURT!" He turned, dashing towards the transport ship.

Kurt started punching the key pad, wishing he knew the code. "Doctor!"

The Doctor ran up to the door. He shouted, "Kurt, are you okay? What's happening?"

"It's coming out of the television! The Angel is here!" Kurt replied from inside. "It looks like a holographic image but it's getting more solid by the moment!"

"Don't take your eyes off it!" The Doctor yelled. He took out the sonic screwdriver, waving it over the key pad. "It can't move if you're looking." He dashed along the side of the transport. "What's wrong? It's deadlocked!"

"There is no deadlock!" River said. She was trying in vain to override the controls.

"Kurt, don't blink! Don't even blink!"

A faint "Doctor!" came from inside the transporter.

"What are you doing?" River asked as the Doctor began pulling wires out of the side of the transporter.

"Cutting the power. It's using the screen, I'm turning the screen off. It's no good, it's deadlocked the whole system." He pushed away from the wall.

"There's no deadlock!" River said firmly.

"There is now!"

"Doctor, help me or I swear to god you will find your-" Kurt continued to line out various schemes to get revenge on the Doctor. He finished up with an, "If I'm still alive!"

"Kurt!" The Doctor ignored the threats, running up to the door. "Can you turn it off?"

"Doctor!"

"Can you turn it off?" He repeated.

"I tried," Kurt stated.

"Try again but don't take your eyes off the angel!" The Doctor was speaking quickly, and he ran off to the side of the ship again.

"I'm not!" Kurt bit out.

"Each time it moves, it'll move faster. Don't even blink." River was using a blow torch on the side of the ship.

"I'm not blinking!" Kurt said, winking with one eye, then the next. "Have you ever tried not blinking?" He fumbled for the remote, not taking his eyes off the angel. He pressed the button, and it seemed to work, but again, it turned back on.

"It keeps switching back on!" He shouted.

"Yeah, it's the angel," the Doctor replied.

"But it's just a recording!"

"No, anything that takes the image of an angel becomes an angel!" He turned to River. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to cut through," River replied, panic barely concealed in her voice as she continued with the blow torch. "It's not even warm."

"There is no way in," the Doctor stressed. "It's not physically possible!"

Kurt stared into the angel's eyes. "Doctor, what's it going to do to me?"

"Just keep looking at it! Don't stop looking!"

"Just tell me!" He snarled. "I want to know!"

The Doctor ran for the book on the angels. He sat at the door and looked through it as River looked on.

"Kurt, not the eyes! Look at the angel, but don't look at the eyes!"

"Why?" He asked, unable to look away from the angel's stone gaze. It was hypnotic.

"What is it?" River looked worried.

"'The eyes are not the windows of the soul, they are the doors. Beware what may enter there'."

Suddenly, Kurt had an idea. "Doctor, what did you say?"

"Don't look at the eyes!"

"No, about images! What was it about images?"

"Whatever holds the image of an angel, is itself an angel," River called through the door.

"Okay…" he muttered, holding up the remote, "hold this…one," he counted, "two, three, FOUR!" He pushed pause, at the moment of static.

The angel froze, the door opened and River and the Doctor barged through. Kurt laughed, a breathy, relieved sound.

"I froze it! There was a sort of blip on the tape and I froze it on the blip. It wasn't the image of an angel any more. That was good, yeah? It was, wasn't it? That was pretty good." The Doctor bounded forward and began sonic-ing the wires under the television screen.

"That was amazing!" River said from behind Kurt.

"River, hug Kurt," he said, pointing at Kurt with the screwdriver and then turning back to his work.

"Why?"

"Because I'm busy."

"I'm fine!" He protested.

"You're brilliant!" River insisted, hugging him.

"Thanks," he smiled at her. "I kind of creamed it, didn't I?" He said pointedly towards the Doctor.

"So it was here? That was the angel?" River asked. Seeing the look on Kurt's face, she hurried to add, "I'm not questioning you, just asking!"

"That was a projection of the Angel. It's reaching out, getting a good look at us. It's no longer dormant," the Doctor replied.

Suddenly, an eruption of noise came from outside. A soldier called to Father Octavian, "It's gone positive!"

Octavian, in turn, marched towards the Doctor. "Doctor!" He called. "We're through!"


	18. Time Of The Angels Part Three 3820 words

The Doctor leaned back into the transport ship. "Okay," he said, sounding apprehensive and slightly excited. "Now it starts."

He ducked out of the transport, and River went to follow him. Kurt felt something in his eye, and reached up to rub it.

"You coming?" River asked.

"Yeah…something in my eye," Kurt replied.

The moment they were out of the transport, they were sent towards a ladder that went down into the ground. Kurt followed the Doctor and River down it, and the Doctor asked, "Do we have a Gravity Globe?" Whilst waving his torch about, looking around.

"Grav. Globe!" Father Octavian said.

"Where are we?" Kurt asked, "where is this?"

"It's an Aplan mortarium. Sometimes called a maze of the dead," River explained.

"What _is_ it, though? Not names! Descriptions!"

The Doctor was passed a small, brown ball. "Well, if you happen to be a creature of living stone," he began, kicking the brown ball and it flew up into the air, shining a white light onto the surroundings.

"Wow," Kurt breathed. It was beautiful. Statues upon statues lined the walls, crumbling walls holding them up. "Oh, _wow!_ That's beautiful!"

"…The perfect hiding place," the Doctor finished, and Kurt looked around at the nearest three statues. One was missing a head, while the others, though not in perfect condition, looked like they had been created a while later than the first.

"I guess that makes this a bit trickier then," Octavian murmured.

"A bit, yeah," the Doctor muttered in reply.

"A stone angel on the loose amongst stone statues. A lot harder than I'd prayed for." That was Octavian.

River muttered, "A needle in a haystack."

Kurt continued to wander about, peering at the statues, while the Doctor talked: "A needle that looks like hay. A hay-like needle. Of death. A hay-alike needle of death in a haystack of, er, statues. No, yours was fine."

"This is amazing!" he laughed. "Oh _wow!_"

Octavian ignored Kurt, and said, "Right. Check every single statue in this chamber. You know what you're looking for. Complete visual inspection. One question - how do we fight it?"

"We find it!" The Doctor rushed off, "And hope." Octavian pulled on River's elbow, and Kurt hung back slightly to listen.

"He doesn't know yet, does he? Who and what you are."

River looked sad. "It's too early in his timestream."

"Well make sure he doesn't find out, or else he won't help us!"

"I won't let you down." A strange smile, half teasing and half sad, worked its way onto River's face. "Believe me, I have no intention of going back to prison." She walked off towards Kurt, who's thoughts were buzzing. _Prison? Did she do something bad? It had to be to do with the Doctor, or else he wouldn't be mentioned…_

"Sir? Side chamber, one visible exit," called a dark skinned solider.

"Check it out," Octavian replied. "Angelo, go with him."

The two headed towards the side chamber, not knowing they were heading towards their death.

Kurt was following the Doctor. He watched as the Doctor shone his torch in every direction. He stopped, listening to the steady _drip, drip, drip_ of water, looking upwards. Statues were scattered everywhere, and it was rather like a cemetery- sad, yet very beautiful.

He rubbed at his eye with a finger. He felt something on his fingers, but flicked it way, but continued to rub his eye, this time with the palm of his hand. He felt something fall through his fingers, _grit_, he realised in horror. He stopped rubbing his eye, staring at it in horror. He rubbed it off on his clothes, then, realising what he had done, brushed them down.

"Are you alright?" River's voice shocked him.

"Yeah, fine!" He replied. "You scared me! What are you, part cat?"

She laughed.

"So…What exactly _is_ a maze of the dead? You never told me."

"Oh, it's not as bad as it sounds. It's just a labyrinth with dead people buried in the walls," She replied flippantly. Kurt gave her a look. "OK, that was fairly bad."

She fumbled in her pockets as Kurt replied sarcastically, "Really? I didn't notice."

"Right, give me your arm." She held up a syringe. "This won't hurt a bit." She plunged it into Kurt's arm.

"Ow! And what was that? Am I going to die? What if I had an allergic reaction, did you ever think of that?"

"There, you see? I lied."

"Do that a lot, do you?" He snapped back.

"It's a viro-stabiliser. Stabilises your metabolism against radiation, drive burn, anything. You're going to need it when we get up to that ship. And no, nobody's ever had an allergic reaction to it, but hey, you might be the first."

They both looked over to the Doctor, who was staring intently at a statue, eyes roaming over it.

"So what's he like? In the future, I mean. Because you know him in the future, don't you?"

River looked shocked for a second, and then replied. "The Doctor? Well, the Doctor's the Doctor." She held the air of someone covering something up, like Finn, when he ate the last of Kurt's cookies- he stress baked, okay?

"Oh well _that's_ helpful!" Kurt snarked. "Mind if I write that down?"

"Yes," she called suddenly. "We are."

"What?" Came Kurt and the Doctor's voices at the same time.

"Talking about you."

"I wasn't listening, I'm busy," he grumbled, unconvincingly. He was holding River's handheld device.

"_Ah._ The other way up," River said, amused.

The Doctor frowned, flipped it the right way and glanced at River, who merely raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah," he murmured hesitantly.

"You are so his wife!" Kurt laughed. "You sounded just like my stepmom, Carole, when she's talking to my dad."

"Kurt, this is _The Doctor _we're talking about, do you really think it could be anything that simple?" She asked teasingly.

Kurt looked straight in her eyes. "Yep," he replied lightly.

She looked at him for a moment in silence, then said, "You're good. I'm not saying you're _right_, but you're good."

"I know," he smirked.

Angelo and the other Cleric were searching the dark side-chamber.

"Can you believe this? We're hunting _statues_," the Cleric sighed.

Angelo replied a moment later, focusing on looking around everywhere for the angel, "Better than chasing lava snakes."

"Actually," the other Cleric replied, "the lava snakes weren't that bad." He moved forward unnoticed as Angelo was examining a statue, staring at it intently. He didn't know why, but something felt wrong about these statues.

The Other Cleric, in a dark, cavernous room, saw his light flicker, its electronic buzzing sound joining the only other sound in the room, the sound of water dropping.

Suddenly, he heard a strange, scuffling sound- what was that? He frowned, moving forwards, asking, "Who's there?" He was proud that his voice did not shake, in fact, it did not show his panic at all.

"Is someone there? Angelo?" He had no idea how Angelo could have gotten there before him, but it was the only solution his panicked mind would let him accept. He turned his head as his light flickered out again, and then back on once more. "_Angelo!"_

He turned his face back around and the last thing he saw was the stone face of an angel, snarling at him.

Meanwhile, Angelo realised that his friend was missing. He took up his radio. "Christian, is that you?"

"Angelo, come and see this," Christian's voice replied. Angelo took up his gun and looked around before replying.

"What is it?"

"Just come and see it!"

"It's not a school trip! Just tell me!"  
>"No, really. Come and see." A dark excitement was in Christian's voice. Angelo sighed, then turned, and, like his friend, the last thing he saw was an angel's face.<p>

Darkness.

Kurt and River were silently appreciating the beauty of the caverns while the Doctor was studying them when they heard gunfire. All three whipped around, running back towards the others.

They came face to face with a baby-faced young man apologising to an angry Octavian. Kurt attempted to go over to give the boy a hug, but River stopped him. Though the boy looked nothing like him, Kurt was reminded of Finn. He forced himself to stay by the Doctor.

"Sorry, I thought…I thought it looked at me," he whispered.

"We know what the Angel looks like. Is that the Angel?" Octavian asked in a whisper that, to Kurt, was more frightening than a shout.

"No, sir," the young man said, dark brown eyes on Octavian's blue.

"No, sir, it is not! According to the Doctor, we are facing an enemy of unknowable power and infinite evil. So it would be good, it would be _very good_, if we could all remain calm in the presence of decor." He finished his little speech.

The Doctor leaned on the statue. "What's your name?"

"Bob, sir," Bob replied.

"Ah, that's a great name! I love Bob!"

"It's a Sacred Name. We all have Sacred Names, they're given to us in the service of the Church." Octavian explained. The Doctor went from the statue to join them.

"Sacred Bob. More like Scared Bob, now, eh?"

"Yes, sir," Bob replied, looking ashamed. Kurt just wanted to hug the adorable young man- he was sweet, like Brittany and just all-round cute like a small child that _isn't_ oozing from every orifice.

"Ah, good. Scared keeps you fast. Anyone in this room who isn't scared is a moron." He gave Octavian a look. "Carry on."

"We'll be moving into the maze in two minutes," Octavian announced to the whole room, and then, just to Bob, "You stay with Christian and Angelo. Guard the approach."

Bob nodded.

Kurt approached the young man.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Kurt."

"Bob," Bob replied.

"I know you're scared," Kurt said compassionately, "But that's okay. We're all scared, even the Doctor." Bob nodded. "You remind me of my stepbrother, you know," he continued. "His name's Finn. You look nothing alike, but…" He trailed off. "If you need us, call, okay?" He smiled sadly at the boy. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," Bob replied. "I know I'm young…"

"Hey," Kurt interrupted, "I'm nineteen. Don't go bashing on us kids, okay?" He smiled.

Suddenly, the Doctor's voice rang out, "Bell!"

"I'm sorry, I have to go," he replied. "I'll see you soon." He looked deep into Bob's eyes. "That's a promise."

"Isn't there a chance this will just collapse?" Kurt asked worriedly. "I mean, there's a whole ship up there!"

"Incredible builders, the Aplans," River said.

"Had dinner with their chief architect once. Two heads are better than one," the Doctor boasted.

"What, you mean you helped him?" Kurt asked.

"No, I mean he had two heads." Something deep inside Kurt felt a sharp stab of panic at that statement. Every instinct he had immediately begun to scream at him, shouting, _something is wrong here, something is wrong!_

"That book," he began, clearly speaking to River at this point, "what did it say?"

"Ah, hang on…" She grabbed the book out of her pocket and flipped through it.

"Read it to me."

""What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if one day our dreams no longer needed us? When these things occur and are held to be true, the time will be upon us. The time of Angels," she read in a strong, clear voice.

Kurt, the Doctor and River, along with the Clerics and Octavian, were climbing. "Are we there yet? It's a hell of a climb," Kurt complained. He was hardly tired- he had kept up with Sue Sylvester's less extreme exercises and hey, dancing and yoga every day was good exercise, and if his dad had brought home Just Dance for the Wii, he didn't spend most of his time on it. At all.

"The maze," River answered his question, "is on six levels, representing the ascent of the soul. Only two levels to go."

"Lovely species, the Aplans," the Doctor remarked, "we should visit them sometime."

"But if they're all dead..." He immediately began slapping himself mentally for his stupidity.

"So is Virginia Woolf. I'm on her bowling team." He switched topic: Kurt admired that in him, he could be talking about something and then switch to another topic in seconds: while annoying, it was rather amusing. "Very relaxed, sort of cheerful. That's having two heads. You're never short of a snog with an extra head." Kurt snorted.

"Doctor, there's something…I don't know what it is," River began.

"Yeah, something wrong."

"I feel it too," Kurt nodded.

"Don't know what it is yet either, working on it." The Doctor continued. "Then they started having laws against self-marrying and what was that about? But that's the church for you. Erm, no offence, Bishop."

"Quite a lot taken, if that's alright, Doctor," Octavian replied.

"So it's not just the Doctor being Mr. Grumpy Face today," Kurt muttered. River, overhearing, laughed quietly.

They followed Octavian into a passageway filled with statues.

"Lowest point in the wreckage is only about 50 feet up from here. That way," Octavian said.

"The Church _did_ have a point," Kurt mused out loud. "I mean, what if they got a divorce? Would one head get chopped off or anything?"

Suddenly, the Doctor stopped, staring at a statue.

"_Oh,"_ he breathed.

"What's wrong?" Kurt demanded. It would be bad, he could feel it.

"Oh," River said shortly in realisation.

"Exactly," the Doctor replied.

Kurt followed their torch beams. They were looking at the statue- no, the statue's head. Wait…_head? _If that was an Aplan…

"Oh my god," he breathed. "Oh my…" His voice rose as he looked around and wracked his memory. "How did we not notice? And what about the others?"

"I don't know, but how _did_ we not notice that?" River asked.

"Low level perception filter, or maybe we're thick," the Doctor replied.

"What's _wrong_, sir?" Octavian asked.

"Nobody move. Everyone stay exactly where they are. Bishop, I am truly sorry. I've made a mistake and we are all in danger."

"What danger?"

"The Aplans," River said.

"The Aplans?"

"They have two heads," River said slowly.

"Yes, I get that. So?" Octavian asked.

"So why don't the statues?" The Doctor breathed, and Kurt's world stopped. He thought he knew, but oh god, his fears had just been confirmed and oh god, they were going to die here, surrounded by corpses.

Kurt had never before in his life wanted his mother so badly.

Yes, Burt was a brilliant, wonderful father, but he was not Kurt's mother. Elisabeth Hummel was connected to her son on a wavelength that nobody else was, and because she died when he was young, he had never seen the bad side of her. Everyone had one, he was aware, but hers, he had never seen.

He was dragged out of wishing for his mother when the Doctor spoke.

"Everyone over there," the Doctor said, pointing to an area without statues, _angels_, he corrected in his mind. "Just move, don't ask questions, and don't speak." He moved with them. "Okay, I want you all to switch off your torches."

"Sir?" Octavian asked.

"Just do it." They hurried to do so, River in the lead, closely followed by Kurt. "Okay, I'm going to turn this one off too, just for a moment." Kurt's hands were shaking.

"Are you sure about this?" River asked.

"No," replied the Doctor and, after a long moment, switched off his torch for less than a second.

The angels had moved.

"Oh my god," Kurt breathed. He stared at the angel nearest to him. It's features seemed to be melting into one another, nose almost gone- many Voldemort references sprang to mind, but he pushed them away. He and River followed the Doctor, the rest of the group stayed behind, but all were trying to keep their eyes on the angels.

"They're angels," the Doctor said loudly, staring at one that had a hand reaching for something, "all of them!"

"They can't be," River said.

"Clerics, keep watching them!" He called, darting out of the cave-like passageway, Kurt and River following, seeing each statue had moved, crawling towards them, he spoke again, "Every statue in this maze, every single one, is a Weeping Angel. They're coming after us."

Bob was slightly worried now. He had radioed Angelo and Christian, but they hadn't answered him, so he had gone to look for them himself. Suddenly, his radio crackled to life. It was Angelo.

"Bob, come and see this."

"Angelo?" Why was he calling now? Why not respond when he had called the first time?

"Come and see what we found!" Angelo insisted.

"Are you with Christian, the Bishop said you'd be five minutes!" He was annoyed now, not worried. If they were contacting him, they had to be alive, and if they were not telling him they were injured, they should be okay and apparently, no angel. Or, was what they had found the angel? He had no idea.

"I'm here, Bob, come and see this!" Angelo insisted.

"Where are you?" He asked, after looking around, but not seeing them.

"Through the arch, Bob. Honestly, you've got to come see this."

"What have you found?"

"Come and see!" Bob was getting worried now- why was he so insistent?

"No. What is it?"

"Come and see." After a short second of hesitation, he began to move. He walked through the archway, sealing his fate.

"There was just one angel on the ship, just one, I swear!" River was almost yelling.

"Could they have been here already? Waiting for something like this to happen?" Kurt asked.

"The Aplans, how did they die out?" The Doctor asked.

"Nobody knows," River replied quickly.

"_We_ know," the Doctor replied.

"They don't look like angels," Octavian said.

"Why aren't they fast? You said they were fast!" Kurt chipped in. "Sorry to be a downer, but they should have had us by now."

"Look at them, they're dying, losing their form! They must have been down here for centuries, losing their power."

"Losing their image…" Kurt nodded, understanding.

"And their image is their power." He stood up quickly, "Power. _Power!_" He yelled.

"Doctor?" Kurt frowned.

"Don't you see? All that radiation spilling out, the drive burn. The crash of the Byzantium wasn't an accident - it was a rescue mission, for the Angels. We're in the middle of an army and it's waking up." All of this was said very quickly.

"We need to get out of here- fast," River translated for the slack-jawed Clerics, and for Kurt, who wasn't sure if he should be insulted, having her think he didn't catch that, or thankful that he didn't have to tell the Clerics. Knowing him, it would have been a speech full of insults.

Octavian was talking into his radio. "Bob? Angelo? Christian? Come in please. Any of you, come in!" If Kurt actually thought the man capable of any emotion, he thought that he would have been worried.

"It's Bob, sir. Sorry, sir," Bob's voice came from the radio.

"Bob, are Angelo and Christian with you? All the statues are active. I repeat, all the statues are active!" He sounded almost relieved.

"I know, sir. Angelo and Christian, they're dead, sir. The statues killed them, sir."

"Bob! Sacred Bob, it's me, the Doctor! Where are you now?"

"I'm talking to my…" Octavian was cut off by the Doctor before he even finished his sentence.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up!" The Doctor said.

"I'm on my way up to you, sir, I'm homing in on your signal."

"Well done, Bob. Scared keeps you fast, told you, didn't I? Your friends, Bob, what did the Angel do to them?"

"Snapped their necks, sir." Kurt gasped, a hand flying to his neck.

"That's odd, that's not how the angels kill you they displace you in time. Unless they need the bodies for something."

Octavian grabbed the radio from the Doctor.

"Bob, did you check their data packs for vital signs? We may be able to initiate a rescue plan."

"Oh, don't be an idiot!" the Doctor snapped, grabbing the radio back. "The angels don't leave you alive! Bob, keep running, but tell me, how did you escape?"

"I didn't escape, sir. The angel killed me too."

Silence fell for a second. They all looked at one another, until the Doctor asked the question that was on all of their minds.

"What do you mean, the angels killed you too?"

"Snapped my neck, sir. Wasn't as painless as I expected but it was pretty quick, so that was something."

Kurt sniffed, remembering the young boy that had reminded him so much of his stepbrother. _He probably had a family and friends,_ Kurt realised, _Oh god, how would they cope?_

"If you're dead how can I be talking to you?"

"You're not talking to me, sir. The Angel has no voice. It stripped my cerebral cortex from my body and re-animated a version of my consciousness to communicate with you. Sorry about the confusion." Kurt gagged. That was sick!

"So when you say you're coming up to us…"

"It's the angel that's coming, sir, yes." Bob, or what once was Bob, replied.

"No way out!" the Doctor said, not talking into the radio, and he began to pace.

"Then we get out through the wreckage, go!" Octavian said.

"Go, go, go! All of you, run!"

Kurt caught his arm. "Doctor?"

"Yes, I'm coming, just go, go, go!"

Kurt nodded, and followed River and the Clerics, leaving the Doctor and River behind.

"I'm sorry I called you an idiot. Sorry, but there's no way we could have rescued your men," the Doctor said to Octavian.

"I know that, sir. And when you've flown away in your little blue box, I'll explain that to their families," Octavian's words were almost emotionless, but an undertone of malice ran through them.

He walked away, leaving the Doctor alone.

"Angel Bob, which angel am I talking to? The one from the ship?"

"Yes, sir. The other angels are still restoring."

"Ah, so the Angel is not in the wreckage. Thank you." He turned and ran down the passageway, not stopping when he saw Kurt.

"Don't wait for me, go, run!" He yelled, rushing past him.

"I can't!" The Doctor turned back, coming to help him. "No, really, I can't!"

"Why not?" The Doctor demanded.

"Look at it! Look at my hand!" Kurt yelled. "It's stone!"

_Hi guys! _

_I know I said this chappie wasn't long, but, I lied. 20 pages on Microsoft Word, that's pretty good, isn't it?_

_Anyway, I mean it this time, don't expect long chapters! These last two were…weird, for me. Please drop a review, I won't stop if you don't, but it'll be really helpful in the next chapter! I love you all!_

_funky xxxxx_


	19. Time Of The Angels Last Part!

_AN: I don't think this one is very long, as there's not much more of this episode to go. Thanks for reading this, and enjoy!_

_funky xxx_

_PS: please read and review._

Further along the dark passageway, River, Octavian and the Clerics jogged into a chamber and, hearing a creaking noise above them, looked up. High above their heads, a dark grey wall of metal showed the bottom of the ship.

"Well," Octavian said slowly. "There it is- the Byzantium."

River exhaled loudly. "Well, it's got to be thirty feet. How do we get up there?"

Octavian turned, noticing other exits. He ordered the Clerics, "Check all these exits. I want them all secure."

Meanwhile, the Doctor stood flashing his torch in Kurt's eyes.

"You looked into the eyes of an angel, didn't you?" He asked quickly.

"I couldn't stop myself!" He defended his actions. "I tried!"

"Listen to me, it's messing with your head. Your hand is not made of stone!"

"It _is!_ I'm not trying to be dramatic, just look at it!" Kurt snarled. He glanced down himself, it was still made of stone.

"It's in your mind. I promise you. You can move that hand. You can let go," the Doctor said quickly.

"I can't, OK? I've tried, and I _can't_!" His voice was rising, he was almost shouting.

The torchlight began to flicker. He continued, "It's stone!"

"The angel," the Doctor said matter-of-factly, "is going to come," here his voice got quicker, as if panicked, "and it's gonna turn this light off, and then there's nothing I can do to stop it. So do it! Concentrate! Move your hand," he said, voice dark, almost threatening.

"I can't," Kurt snapped.

"Then we are both going to die," the Doctor said calmly.

"You're not going to die!" Kurt said.

"They'll kill the lights," the Doctor warned as the torch flickered again, more violently.

"You've got to go, you know you have. You've got all that stuff with River and that's all got to happen. You know you can't die here!" Kurt replied, angry now.

"Time can be re-written, it doesn't work like that," the Doctor said sharply.

Kurt half-turned to look at the angels.

"Keep your eyes on it. Don't blink," the Doctor said quickly.

"Run!" He urged the Doctor as the angels inched closer.

"You see, I'm not going! I'm not leaving you here!"

"I don't need you to die for me!" Kurt snapped. "Do I really look that clingy?"

"You can move your hand."

"It's stone!"

"It's not stone!" The Doctor sounded angry.

"Those people up there will die without you. If you stay here with me, you'll have as good as killed them!" Kurt begged him to go, "Leave me here!"

"Kurt Hummel," the Doctor said, resting his head on the side of Kurt's, "you are magnificent. And I'm sorry."

"What for? You haven't done anything!" Kurt replied. "Now shoo!"

"Oh no, I'm not leaving you, and I'm sorry about this!" The Doctor swooped down and grabbed Kurt's hand- with his _teeth._

Kurt shrieked, moving his hand quickly.

"You _bit_ me! Oh my god, do you have rabies or something? Will I have to get a shot?" The Doctor reached out and pulled Kurt behind him, keeping his eyes on the angels.

"You're alive! I think that's more important right now!"

"Do you at least have water to wash it with?"

"Alive!" The Doctor said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"And oh my gosh, I have a mark! Do you have space teeth? Do you _know _how easily I bruise?"

"Alive, that's all I'm saying!"

They both turned at the same moment, as if practised, and _ran._

One of the Clerics Octavian had sent to check the passage ran back into the cave.

"The statues are advancing along all corridors. And, sir, my torch keeps flickering." He did not sound worried.

"They all do," Octavian's gravelly voice replied.

"So does the gravity globe," River was the only one looking, or sounding, appropriately worried about their situation.

"Clerics, we're down to four men. Expect incoming," Octavian warned.

The Doctor's voice came from a passageway. "Yeah, it's the Angels. They're coming. And they're draining the power for themselves," he explained.

"Which means we won't be able to see them?" Octavian asked, sounding slightly more worried now.

"Which means we can't stay here," the Doctor replied.

"There are more incoming!" Someone shouted- Kurt didn't see who.

"Any suggestions?" River asked, hurrying towards the Doctor, however it was Octavian that replied.

"The statues are advancing on all sides and we don't have the climbing equipment to reach the Byzantium."

"There's no way up, no way back, no way out. No pressure, but this is usually when you have a really good idea," River sounded very worried.

The Doctor's eyes, from where they had been closed, snapped open.

"There's always a way out."

The lights all flickered, plunging them into complete darkness for a moment. When Kurt turned, he could see angels in every passageway.

"There's always a way out!" The Doctor sounded slightly brighter.

"Doctor?" The angel with Bob's voice asked. "Can I speak to the Doctor, please?" The Doctor fished the radio out of his pocket.

"At least they're polite," Kurt muttered.

"Hello, angels. What's your problem?"

"Your power will not last much longer, and the Angels will be with you shortly. Sorry, sir."

"Why are you telling me this?" The Doctor asked, while Kurt merely muttered 'polite' again.

"There's something the Angels are very keen you should know before the end."

"Which is?" Kurt shook his head.

"Doctor, you don't want to know! Don't ask!"

The angels were already replying. "I died in fear."

"I'm sorry?" Everyone stared at the radio.

"You told me my fear would keep me alive but I died afraid, in pain and alone. You made me trust you, and when it mattered, you let me down."

Kurt whispered to River, "What are they doing?"

"They're trying to make him angry," she replied. Kurt frowned- the Doctor didn't look angry, he just looked sad.

"I'm sorry, sir. The Angels were very keen for you to know that."

When the Doctor spoke, his eyes were alive with anger and his voice rang with it. "Well then, the Angels have made their second mistake because I'm not going to let that pass. I'm sorry you're dead, Bob, but I swear to whatever is left of you, they will be sorrier."

"But you're trapped, sir." The angel-Bob said. "And about to die."

"Yeah, I'm trapped. Speaking of traps, this trap has got a great big mistake in it. A great big, whopping mistake!" By the end of his speech, his voice was loud, and he was tripping over his words.

"What mistake, sir?" Angel-Bob asked.

The Doctor turned to Kurt. "Trust me?"

Kurt paused. He wondered if the Doctor knew what a loaded question that was, and, looking into the Doctor's eyes, he knew he did. A small smile took over his face. "Yes."

"Trust me?" He asked, this time to River.

"Always," she replied instantly.

"You lot- trust me?" He asked Octavian.

There was a long pause, interrupted by a Cleric yelling, "Sir, two more incoming!"

"We have faith, sir," Octavian replied.

"Then give me your gun," The Doctor ordered. Octavian handed it over, not hesitating. "I'm about to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous."

"Sounds like usual," Kurt muttered.

"When I do," the Doctor continued, ignoring Kurt, "jump." He jumped slightly, as if they needed to know how.

"Jump where, sir?" Octavian asked.

"Just jump, high as you can. Come on, leap of faith, Bishop. On my signal."

"What signal?" Octavian demanded.

"You won't miss it!" The Doctor said, pointing the gun high.

"Sir, can I ask again? You mentioned a mistake we made?"

"Oh, big mistake. Really huge. Didn't anyone ever tell you? There's one thing you never put in a trap, if you're smart, if you value your continued existence, if you have any plans about seeing tomorrow, there is one thing you never, ever put in a trap," The Doctor said, still pointing the gun.

"And what would that be, sir?" Angel-Bob asked.

There was a long, uninterrupted pause. Kurt looked over to the Doctor, who focused once more.

And then he replied, in a voice so dark and dangerous Kurt shivered.

"Me."

**TO BE CONTINUED.**


	20. Flesh and Stone Part One

Kurt was falling. Every sense, every fibre of his being was screaming at him, but his mouth stayed closed, not letting the screech of terror out and suddenly- _oof. _The ground rushed up at him at a frankly ridiculous rate, and the world slowly began to right itself.

"Up! Look up!" The Doctor said loudly, as Kurt dragged himself up.

River met his gaze, eyes concerned. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll be bruised tomorrow, but fine," he smiled. _If we live to see tomorrow, anyway_, he thought darkly. "What happened?"

"We jumped," River replied, looking up as she stood.

"Jumped where?" Kurt asked as the Doctor buzzed around, seeming to feel no ill-effects from falling.

"Up, up, look up!" The Doctor urged once more.

"Where are we?" Kurt asked, staring around. It looked, to him, like the room they just came from.

"Exactly where we were," River said.

"Wait…We're not actually…" Kurt gaped at the two of them.

"Yes, we are," the Doctor said firmly, "and move your feet!"

"Oh my god!" He almost shrieked. "But what we did, can they do it too?"

"Most likely, which is why I'm working on it, don't worry," the Doctor replied.

"But how is that possible?" He demanded of the Doctor. "How is that even _possible_?"

"The artificial gravity is still on," the Doctor replied, "One good jump," he accented his point by jumping once, "and up we fell. Shot out the grav-globe to give us an updraft, and here we are!" He went back to sonicking the indent in the floor. Kurt began, almost absentmindedly, humming _Defying Gravity,_ finding the song title amusing in the current situation, but everyone just looked at him strangely.

"Doctor, the statues…they look more like angels, now," Father Octavian said, pointing his gun up at the ceiling.

"They're feeding on the radiation from the wreckage, draining all the power from the ship, restoring themselves. Within an hour, they'll be an army!" The Doctor said, the sonic finally opening the hatch.

Kurt peered inside, and immediately thanked his lucky stars he wasn't scared of heights. Inside was a long drop, with no end in sight. It seemed to be a corridor, with metal lights and rolling back doors. The lights, both inside the corridor and outside, began flickering, the outside ones outright smashing, sending sparks up into the air.

"They're taking out the lights!" The Doctor stated.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Kurt snapped.

"Look at them, look at the angels!" The Doctor said once more. Kurt peered up through the gloom, staring up at the angels that were, like Octavian had reported, looking more like angels by the second. The Doctor shuffled himself over to the hole, dropping in while saying, "Into the ship, now, quickly all of you!"

"Doctor!" Kurt shrieked, rushing over, imagining his friend a pile of broken bones at the bottom of the endless-looking corridor.

"It's just a corridor!" The Doctor said, from his upright position. "The gravity orients to the floor," he demonstrated. "Now, in here, all of you! Don't take your eyes off the angels! Move, move, move!" He scurried away to sonic a keypad.

"Ok, men!" Octavian shouted, "Go, go, go!"

River tried to get Kurt to go in first, but in a strange surge of protectiveness, he ushered her inside first, following straight after, checking she was okay. River gave him a look.

"I'm fine," she said softly, turning to help the others.

Octavian turned to talk to the Doctor.

"The Angels, presumably they can jump too?"

The hole in the ceiling slid closed with a soft 'whoosh' of noise.

"They're here. Now," the Doctor said slowly. "In the dark, we're finished." The door behind them began to roll closed with a siren.

"This whole place is a deathtrap!" Octavian yelled, following the Doctor to the closing door.

"No, it's a time bomb. Well, it's a death trap and a time bomb. And now it's a dead end. Nobody panic." The Doctor said all of this very fast. Almost as soon as he had finished speaking, sparks flew from the door. "Oh, just me then. What's through here?" He asked.

"Secondary flight deck," River replied.

"Okay, so we've basically run up the inside of a chimney, yeah? Well what happens if the gravity fails?" Kurt asked. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer.

"I've thought about that," the Doctor replied calmly.

"And?" Kurt prompted warily.

"We'll all plunge to our deaths. See, I've thought about it!" He returned to the door, and spoke again, "The security protocols are still active, there's no way to override them, it's impossible."

"How impossible?" River asked, fiddling with wires in a tube at the side of the ship.

"Two minutes," the Doctor replied quickly.

The constant hum of the engines powered down. The way in reopened, showing angels staring at them from the ceiling.

"The hull is breached and the power's failing," Octavian reported as the lights began to dim.

They went out completely, and when Kurt looked back up, a clawed hand was over the exit.

"Oh, _shit_," he swore.

"Sir! Incoming!" A cleric warned.

"Doctor, lights!" Kurt reminded the man, who was sonicking one of the wires in an attempt to help River. As the lights flickered, the angel slowly made its way inside the ship.

The lights went out completely. Kurt had never been particularly afraid of the dark before- in fact, he rather liked it- it helped him think- but he had a feeling that after this particular adventure he would never be able to be in the dark ever again without panicking.

After a few tense moments, the lights returned. But much to Kurt's horror, four angels were also with it.

"Clerics, keep watching them," Octavian reminded everyone- not that they needed it.

"And don't look at their eyes. Anywhere else. Not the eyes," the Doctor reminded everyone, which was slightly more helpful. He came up to Octavian, River and Kurt. "I've isolated the lighting grid, they can't drain the power now."

"Nice one," Kurt nodded.

"Good work, Doctor," Octavian chipped in.

"Yes. Good. Good in many ways, you like it so far…"

"So far?" Kurt asked cautiously.

The Doctor brushed him out of the way and tore open a panel in the side of the ship, fiddling with the wires.

"Well, there's only one way to open this door. I guess I'll need to route all the power in this section through the door control."

"Good, fine, do it," Octavian said.

"Including the lights," the Doctor said, striding forwards to look at the angels. "All of them. I'll have to turn out the lights."

"How long for?" Octavian asked, while Kurt and River stared in horror.

"Fracture of a second. Maybe longer. Maybe quite a bit longer…"

"Maybe?" Octavian asked.

The Doctor ran a hand over his face, "I'm guessing. We're being attacked by statues in a crashed ship, there isn't a manual for this!" He dashed back next to Kurt.

"Doctor, we lost all the torches! We'll be in total darkness, and how fast are these things? You told me not to even blink, _and we'll be in total darkness!_" Kurt was very impressed with his ability to be calm in such a situation.

"No other way," the Doctor replied, flitting forwards once more. _He's like a Hummingbird,_ Kurt thought. "Bishop?" The Doctor continued.

"Doctor Song, I've lost good clerics today. Do you trust this man?"

River did not hesitate. "I absolutely trust him."

"He's not some kind of madman, then?"

This time, River did pause, and Kurt tried to contain a snort of laughter. "I absolutely trust him," she repeated.

"Excuse me!" The Doctor slapped their shoulders, and Octavian leaned closer to River. Kurt strained his ears over the sound of the sonic.

"I'm taking your word, because you're the only one who can manage this guy. But that only works so long as he doesn't know who you are. You cost me any more men, and I might just tell him. Understood?" Octavian asked.

River stared at him, anger burning in her eyes. "Understood," she snarled after a long moment, finishing her work.

"Okay, Doctor, we've got your back," Octavian told the Doctor.

"Bless you, Bishop," was the quick reply.

Octavian began giving out orders to the clerics. "Combat distance, ten feet. As soon as the lights go down, continuous fire. Full spread over the hostiles. Do not stop firing while the lights are out. Shot gun protocol, we don't have bullets to waste."

The Doctor began talking to Kurt. "Kurt, when the lights go down, the wheel should release. Spin it clockwise four times."

He turned to watch, and suddenly the Doctor turned. "No, four! Four turns!"

"Yeah, four, I heard you," he snapped, turning back to the wheel.

"Ready!" The Doctor said, pushing the sonic into the panel.

"On my count, then," Octavian said. "God be with us all." Kurt accepted the prayer. Even though he didn't believe in God, and didn't really want to, he knew some people did, and that was fine. He got into position, River coming next to him.

"Three…" Octavian began counting down. "Two…One…" The lights went out, and he yelled, "Fire!"

Bullets lit up the hallway, crashing onto the angels. Using his muscles developed from days on the Cheerios and football, along with carrying heavy shopping bags, he span the wheel. It wasn't that heavy, but heavier than he had expected. The angels approached in the darkness.

"Turn!" The Doctor shouted.

He kept turning, River helping.

"Doctor, quickly!" She snapped.

"It's opening, it's working!" He yelled, getting everyone's attention. He pushed River through, the odd protective feeling surging up once more, and followed.

"Fall back!" Octavian cried.

The Clerics hurried past, followed by Octavian and the Doctor. They were in a similar corridor, heading towards a similar door. The Doctor sonicked a panel on the wall, and the round door opened, into an open room.

There were three large control panels, one in the centre, one to the left of it and one to the right. Next to the door they came in through were two more doors of the same size and shape.

The Clerics were first in with Octavian in the lead, Kurt and River following. "Doctor, quickly!" River yelled to the man who was holding the door open with the sonic.

"Doctor!" Kurt called.

The Doctor inched away, holding the sonic to the panel still, before quickly turning away and sliding through the closing door.

"Doctor," Kurt yelped, seeing the door spinning. Octavian walked over, pulling out a small device with a red light. "What are you doing?"

"I've magnetised the door," he announced. "Nothing could turn that wheel now."

"Yeah?" The Doctor asked.

Behind Octavian, the wheel slowly began to turn, clunking with each spin. Octavian turned around slowly, fear dawning on his face.

"Dear God!" He breathed.

"Ah, now you're getting it!" The Doctor said, looking delighted. He began darting around the console, picking up wires, but managing to work around River, who was fiddling with the console to his right. "You've brought us time though, I am good with time."

"Doctor," Kurt warned. Another wheel had begun to spin.

"Seal that door, seal it now!" Octavian ordered a Cleric. He rushed forwards, placing another device on it.

"We're surrounded," River stated calmly.

"Seal it, seal that door!" Octavian shouted. A Cleric placed a third device on the third door. "Doctor, how long have we got?"

"Five minutes," the Doctor replied. "Max."

A blankness fell over Kurt for a second, and when he blinked, the Doctor was saying, "five," looking straight at him.

"Five, right, yeah," he nodded.

"Why'd you say nine?" The Doctor asked.

"I didn't," he argued.

The wheels on the doors began turning faster.

"We need another way out of here," River said.

"There isn't one," Octavian shot down her suggestion.

"Yes, there is!" The Doctor replied to them both, darting away. "Of course there is!" He turned back to them. "This is a galaxy class ship, goes for years between planet-falls. So," he snapped his fingers, "what do they need?"

"Of course," River breathed, causing the Doctor to snap his fingers at them.

"Of course what? What do they need?" He asked.

"Can we get in there?" Octavian asked.

"Well, it's a sealed unit, but they must have installed it somehow. This whole wall should slide up," the Doctor replied, pressing himself up to the wall. He pushed aside some boxes with a delighted shout of, "clamps! There's clamps! Release the clamps!"

He began sonicking a small triangular device. Kurt, meanwhile, was thinking. "What's in there?" He murmured. "What do they need?" A pause as his tired brain figured it out. "Oh!" He breathed.

"They need to breathe," River said, smiling.

"But…how?" He asked, just as the wall rose up.

"But that's…That's a…" The door opened fully, and he gazed out.

"That's an oxygen factory," River said.

"That's a forest!" He squealed, delighted.

"Yeah, it's a forest," River sounded amused. "It's an oxygen factory."

"But a forest! On a spaceship! That's just the most awesome thing _ever_!" He squealed.

"And, if we're lucky," the Doctor said, smiling at Kurt's amazement, "an escape route."

A small laugh escaped his throat, but he turned sharply as River said, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," he replied, frowning.

"Is there," the Doctor said, clapping his hands once, "another exit? Scan the architecture; we don't have time to get lost in there!"

"On it!" Octavian bounded forward, a small device in his hand. "Stay where you are until I've checked the Rad levels!"

"But _trees_! On a _Spaceship_!" Kurt was still stuck on the whole 'forest inside a spaceship' thing.

"Oh, more than trees, way better than trees," the Doctor said, walking up to one. "You're going to love this. Tree borgs! Trees plus technology! Branches become cables, become sensors on the hull. A forest sucking in starlight, breathing out air. It even rains. There's a whole mini-climate. It is an eco-pod running through the heart of the ship. A forest in a bottle, on a space ship, in a maze. Have I impressed you yet, Delilah Bell?"

Kurt chuckled. "It's Kurt," he snapped playfully. A moment of blankness.

"Seven?" the Doctor said, hurrying towards him.

"Sorry, what?" He asked, frowning.

"You said seven," the Doctor replied as he peered into Kurt's face.

"No I didn't," he frowned.

"Yes, you did," River chimed in from where she was leaning against the console.

"Doctor, there's an exit, far end of the ship, into the Primary Flight Deck."

"Yeah, good," he called back distractedly, still staring at Kurt's face, "that's where we need to go."

"Plotting a safe path now."

"Good, quick as you like," he replied, peering into Kurt's eyes as if he was staring into his soul.

The radio crackled. "Doctor? Excuse me? Hello, Doctor? Angel Bob here, sir."

The Doctor sat down in the command chair, one leg crossed over the other. "Ah, there you are, Angel Bob. How's life? Sorry, bad subject."

"The Angels are wondering what you hope to achieve," Bob said.

"Achieve? We're not achieving anything. We're just hanging. It's nice in here, consoles, comfy chairs, a forest. How's things with you?" The Doctor replied, swinging the chair slightly.

"The Angels are feasting, sir. Soon we will be able to absorb enough power to consume this vessel, this world, and all the stars and worlds beyond."

"Well we have comfy chairs, did I mention?" The Doctor asked faux casually.

"We have no need of comfy chairs."

"I made him say comfy chairs!"

Kurt giggled. Suddenly, the Doctor launched himself out of his chair, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed River's head snap towards him.

"Okay, well, enough chat. Here's what I want to know: what have you done to Kurt?"

"There's something in his eye." Kurt tensed.

"What's in his eye?" The Doctor questioned.

"We are."

Kurt jumped up. "What's he talking about?" He asked, shakily. "Doctor, I'm five!" Everyone stared. "I mean…five. I mean _fine_! Doctor, I'm fine!"

"You're counting," River said slowly.

"Counting?"

"Counting down from ten. You have been for a couple of minutes now." The Doctor murmured.

"Why?" Kurt whispered.

"I don't know."

"Counting down to what?"

"I _don't know_."

The radio crackled. "We shall take him. We shall take all of you. We shall have dominion over all time and space."

The Doctor flopped back into the chair. "Get a life, Bob. Oops, sorry again. There's power on this ship, but nowhere near that much."

"With respect, sir, there's more power on this ship than you yet understand."

A loud, horrible shrieking came from all around them, a wail that burned through Kurt's ears, every nerve in his body yelling _run, run, danger, danger!_

"Dear God!" River said, shocked. "What is that?"

"It's hard to put it in your terms, Doctor Song," Angel Bob replied, "but as best I understand it, the Angels are laughing."

"Laughing?" The Doctor asked.

"Because you haven't noticed yet. The Doctor in the TARDIS hasn't noticed."

"Doctor!" Octavian called.

The Doctor stood, "No, wait, there's something...I've..." he turned around to see a long, mouth-like crack in the wall behind him, "Missed…"

He darted back to the wall.

"That's…That's like the crack in my bedroom wall when I was little!" Kurt breathed.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

In Kurt's mind, the Doctor's voice, from so long ago, rang in his head, "_Two parts of space and time that should never have touched_…"

The room began to shake wildly. "Okay, enough, we're moving out!" Father Octavian yelled.

"Agreed," River said from behind Kurt. "Doctor?"

"Yeah, fine," he murmured, climbing on the console for a better look and using his sonic screwdriver to examine the crack in the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Right with you," he replied absently.

"We're not leaving without you!" She snapped.

"Oh yes you are! Bishop!"

"Mister Hummel, Doctor Song, with me," Octavian called from the trees. River grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him along to safety.

"Doctor! Come on!" Kurt yelled as he was dragged away.

"So what are you?" The Doctor breathed while sonicking the crack. "Oh, that's bad. Ah, that's extremely very not good." He pressed his ear against the wall. When he turned back, he was surrounded by angels. "Right," he muttered to himself as he prepared to climb off the console. Stepping down, he attempted to look at each angel at once. "Do…" He turned to look at another one, "Not…" Back to the first, "Blink," he finished, scrambling away.

But, as he attempted to make his way through the maze of angels, one of their hands shot out like a snake, grasping the back of his jacket. He let out a surprised yell.

Meanwhile, Kurt, River, the Clerics and Octavian were making slow but sure progress through the forest. Kurt slowed down slightly. He felt sick and sluggish, sickly and weak. He heard his loud breathing, and suddenly felt he was going to vomit. Stopping suddenly, River looked back. "Kurt?"

He didn't reply. She ran up, taking him by the shoulders gently. "Kurt, what's wrong?"

The Doctor struggled to get out of his position in the angel's arms.

"Why am I not dead, then?" He asked, looking round nervously. The hands of every angel were raised to the crack, as if praising it. "Good, and not so good. Oh, this isn't even a little bit good. I mean, is that it? Is that the power that brought you here? That's pure time energy, you can't feed on that. That's the power, that's the fire at the end of the universe. I'll tell you something else..." A loud rumbling noise interrupted him, and he took their distraction, wiggling out of his coat, yelling behind him a cheeky "Never let me talk!"

Kurt felt his legs wobbling beneath him. He was floating, but at the same time so, so heavy…

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Came River's concerned voice.

"Four," he choked out. He could hear himself counting, now. Since he'd been alerted to it, he had been able to hear it. He sat down heavily, not caring that he was possibly staining his clothes. A hand travelled to his perfectly coiffed hair. He slowly slumped to the side, feeling himself fall, putting a hand on the moss to stop it.

"Med scanner, now!" River called from above his head. He did not close his eyes, feeling a strong compulsion to keep them open.

"Doctor Song, we can't stay here, we have to keep moving," Octavian said. He felt something wrap around his arm.

"We wait for the Doctor," River snapped. She continued adjusting the strap as Octavian talked.

"Our mission is to make this wreckage safe and neutralise the Angels. Until that is achieved..."

"Father Octavian, when the Doctor is in the room, your only mission is to keep him alive long enough to get everyone else home," River interrupted. "And trust me. It's not easy. Now, if he's dead back there, I'll never forgive myself, and if he's alive, I'll never forgive him." She paused. "And, Doctor, you're standing right behind me, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah," he grinned.

"I hate you," she breathed.

"No, you don't. Bishop, the Angels are in the forest," he shouted to Octavian.

"We need visual contact on every line of approach," Octavian shouted to the Clerics.

Kurt focused on the conversation nearest to his head.

"How did you get past them?" River hissed.

"Found a crack in the wall and told them it was the end of the universe," the Doctor grinned at them.

"What was it?" Kurt asked slowly. It was as though he was slowing down, every moment he became colder, slower. His brain wasn't working properly.

"The end of the universe," the Doctor replied. "Let's have a look then," he grabbed the medical scanner from River.

"So what's wrong with me?" He asked, having a horrible feeling he knew.

"Nothing, you're fine," River soothed.

"Don't lie," he snapped.

"Everything, you're dying," the Doctor murmured.

"Doctor!" River whisper-shouted.

"Yes, you're right, if we lie to him, he'll get all better! Right. Kurt! Kurt. Kurt. What's the matter with Delilah? Something's in his eye. What does that mean? Doesn't mean anything."

"Doctor," Kurt whispered.

"Busy," he replied.

"Scared." _What about Blaine? What about dad and Finn and Carole? What about New Directions?_

"Course you're scared, you're dying, shut up!" The Doctor replied.

River leaned over and stroked his hair. "It's okay, let him think," she whispered.

Kurt sighed, leaning into it. He tried to think calm thoughts, but he always came back to the angels. Suddenly, he thought of Blaine. Blaine, the dapper gentleman who wore bright pink sunglasses and loved Disney and Vogue, who always bawled along with him to a chick flick, who had danced (and spoken every line) with him while watching _The_ _Rocky Horror Picture Show_. Blaine, the first person to believe him when he told them about the Raggedy Doctor, who ate too many Red Vines and who he was going to move in with when all of this was over. Blaine, who tasted of coffee and red vines, who wore contacts just because he thought his glasses made him look like an owl, but adored Kurt's own reading ones.

The Doctor stood suddenly, shocking Kurt out of his thoughts, and began to walk.

"What happened? He stared at the angel; he looked into the eyes of an angel for too long..."

Somewhere in the distance, a Cleric called, "Sir! Incoming!"

"And here," another said, voice shaking slightly.

"Keep visual contact," Octavian called. "Do not let it move!"

The Doctor started slapping his head. "Come on, wakey wakey! He watched an Angel climb out of the screen. He stared at the Angel and…and..."

"The image of an angel is an angel," Kurt murmured. He was so _cold_; he wanted to _die…_

"A living image in a human mind. We stare at them to stop them getting closer, we don't even blink and that's exactly what they want, cos as long as our eyes are open, they can climb inside." He was chattering quickly, excited now. "There's an Angel in his mind!" The Doctor slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Three," he whispered. He could feel it, so close, just waiting…

"Please just shut up, I'm thinking. Now, counting, what's that about?" He picked up the radio. "Bob, why are they making him count?"

"To make him afraid, sir."

"Okay, but why, what for?"

"For fun, sir."

The Doctor let out a roar of frustration, throwing the radio. One of the Clerics looked over, but, hearing a twig snap, looked back at the angel- it was closer.

"Doctor, what's happening to me?" Kurt whispered. "Explain."

"Inside your head, in the vision centres of your brain, there's an Angel." He sat down beside Kurt. "It's like there's a screen, a virtual screen inside your mind, and the Angel is climbing out of it, and it's coming to shut you off."

"Then what can I do about it?" Kurt felt very calm about this whole 'dying' thing. Maybe it was the air.

The Doctor stood up. "If it was a real screen, what would we do, we'd pull the plug, but we can't just knock him out, the Angel would take over!"

"Then what? _Quickly_!" River said hurriedly.

"We've got to shut down the vision centres of his brain. We've got to pull the plug, starve the Angel."

River looked at the scanner, "Doctor, he has seconds!"

"How would you starve your lungs?" He asked quickly.

"I'd stop breathing," she replied.

"Kurt, close your eyes!"

"No," he whimpered. "I don't want to."

"Good, because that's not you! That's the angel inside you, it's afraid! Do it! Close your eyes!"

Kurt screwed up his courage, bit his lip, and closed his eyes.


	21. Flesh and Stone Part Two

Fast beeping was all Kurt could hear, but the rapid beeping was slowing. He heard River's gasp from beside him. "He's normalising," she breathed. "You did it! You did it!"

Kurt could hear both River and the Doctor breathing sighs of relief. A rustling noise, and a Cleric shouted, "Sir! Two more incoming!"

"Three more over here!" Called a second cleric, as River helped Kurt sit up, and, after a few moments, removing the scanner from round his arm.

"Still weak," she reported. "It's dangerous to move him."

"So can I open my eyes now?" He demanded. He was feeling venerable, with his eyes closed in a forest that could be teeming with creatures that would kill him if he didn't look at them.

"Kurt," the Doctor explained, "listen to me. If you open your eyes now for more than a second, you will die. The Angel is still inside you. We haven't stopped it, we've just sort of...paused it. You've used up your countdown. You cannot open your eyes."

Kurt leaned into River's comforting warmth, feeling the arm she had round his shoulders rubbing his back.

"Doctor, we're too exposed here," Octavian said from somewhere behind Kurt. "We have to move on."

The Doctor shifted his movements. Kurt marvelled at how he could feel the shift in the air. Truly, being blinded heightened your other senses. He could hear the Doctor begin to walk as he talked. "We're exposed everywhere, and Kurt can't move, and anyway, that's not the plan."

"There's a plan?" River and Kurt asked in unison.

"I don't know yet, I haven't finished talking. Right! Father, you and your Clerics will stay here, look after Kurt. If anything happens to him, I'll hold each of you personally responsible, twice. River, you and me, we're going to find the Primary Flight Deck which is..." He licked a finger, moving it around. "A quarter mile straight ahead. We'll stabilise the wreckage, stop the Angels, and cure Kurt."

"How?" River questioned.

"I'll do a thing."

"What _thing_?" River asked.

"I don't know, it's a thing in progress! Respect the thing! Moving out!"

"Doctor," Octavian said, approaching the man. "I'm coming with you. My Clerics can look after Mr Bell."

"Hummel!" Kurt yelled.

"Mr Hummel. These are my best men, they'd lay down their lives in his protection."

"I don't need you," The Doctor said.

"I don't care. Wherever Doctor Song goes, I go," Octavian replied.

River got up to stand next to the two arguing men.

"Blimey, you can smell the testosterone," Kurt commented.

Everyone ignored him, the Doctor asking, "What?" He looked between the two. "You two engaged or something?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," Octavian replied. "Marco, you're in charge until I get back."

Octavian walked away, River following. "Sir!" Marco said.

"Doctor!" Kurt called. "Please, can't I come with you?"

"You'd slow us down, Mr. Hummel," Octavian replied.

"Don't want to sound selfish or anything, but you'd really speed me up," Kurt snapped.

He felt the Doctor settle down on the rock by his side. "Please?" He begged softly.

"You'll be safe here," the Doctor said softly. "We can't protect you on the move. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

"You always say that," Kurt whispered, fighting the urge to open his eyes, to look straight at the Doctor. "You always leave me."

"But I always come back," the Doctor said, standing up. "Good luck everyone. Behave. Do not let that boy open his eyes. And keep watching the forest. Stop those Angels advancing. Kurt, later!" He patted Kurt's head, like he was a dog. "River, going to need your computer," the Doctor called as he strode away.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. "Later." He kept his eyes tightly closed. He began to fidget, when large, masculine hands gripped his smaller, softer ones.

"Kurt, you need to start trusting me," he whispered. "It's never been more important."

"You don't always tell me the truth," he protested.

"If I always told you the truth, I wouldn't need you to trust me," the Doctor replied.

"Doctor, the crack in my wall…how can it be here?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know yet, but I'm working it out," he sighed, looking to the side. "Now, remember what I told you when you were seven."

"What did you tell me?" He asked.

The Doctor pressed his forehead against Kurt's. "No, no, that's not the point. You have to remember." He kissed Kurt's forehead, and left.

"Remember what? Doctor? Doctor?"

Octavian was leading River and the Doctor through the forest, the Doctor watching River's device, sonicking it occasionally.

"What's that?" River asked after a particularly loud whirr.

"Readings from that crack in the wall," the Doctor replied distractedly.

"How can a crack in the wall be the end of the universe?"

"Dunno, but here's what I think. One day there'll be a very big bang, so big every moment in history - past and future - will crack."

"Is that possible? How?" River asked.

"How can you be engaged in a manner of speaking?" The Doctor asked.

"Well…" River began, "Sucker for a man in uniform." She smirked.

Octavian looked over, and walked towards the two. "Dr Song is in my personal custody. I released her from the Stormcage Containment Facility four days ago and I am legally responsible for her until she has accomplished her mission and earned her pardon. Just so we understand each other."

Octavian walked away, and the Doctor leaned over to River. "You were in Stormcage?"

As if to break the awkward moment, the device beeped.

"What's that?" River asked.

"The date- the date of the explosion where the crack begins."

"And for those of us who can't read the base code of the universe?"

The numbers at the bottom of the device slowly began to form into numbers River recognised. First two, then six…She watched as a date began to form: 26 06 2010.

"Kurt's time," the Doctor breathed.

Kurt sighed. He hated having his eyes closed for such a long time. "So, what's happening? Anything happening out there?"

"The Angels are still grouping," Marco reported. "Are you getting this too?"

"The trees? Yeah," a second voice replied.

"Why, what's happening?" Kurt demanded.

"Here too, sir," a new voice called. "They're ripping the treeborgs apart."

"And here!" The second voice called. "They're taking out the lights."

"What is it? What's happening? Tell me! I can't see!" Kurt demanded.

"It's the trees, sir. The trees are going out," Marco reported.

Kurt did not know it, but the angels were taking advantage of the flickering lights and beginning to advance.

The Doctor was taking readings from his handheld device, facing the forest, as Octavian tried to find a way in. River faced the forest also, one leg on a rock, gun pointed unwaveringly into the dark depths of the trees.

"It doesn't open it from here, but it's the primary flight deck. This has got to be a service hatch or something."

"Hurry up and open it," River snapped. "Time's running out."

The Doctor's head snapped up. "What? What did you say?" He sounded disbelieving. "Time's running out, is that what you said?"

"Yeah, I just meant…" River started.

"Yes, I know what you meant, but what if it could?" The Doctor asked, his brain obviously working a mile a minute.

"What if what could?" River asked, turning to face him, before remembering herself and turning to face the forest once more.

"Time! What if time could run out?"

"Got it!" Octavian announced triumphantly.

"Angels advancing, sir!" Called a soldier.

"Over here, again," another called.

"Weapons primed. Combat distance five feet. Wait for it!" Marco called.

Kurt stood up. "What is it? What's happening? Just _tell_ me, for god's sake!" He yelled.

"Keep your position, and sir, keep your eyes shut! Wait!" Soldiers nervously shifted, but did not back away. Kurt bit his lip, screwing his eyes closed tighter- he didn't want to accidentally open them.

Suddenly, Marco called out, "The ship's not on fire, is it?"

"What?" Kurt shrieked.

"It can't be," soothed a soldier. "The compressors would have taken care of it. Marco, the angels have gone. Where'd they go?" He asked warily.

"The Angels?" Kurt asked with a frown.

"This side's clear too!" Called a different soldier.

"The Angels have _gone_?" Kurt asked disbelievingly.

A beeping indicated Marco had taken out a handheld device like River's. "There's still movement, but it's away from us now. Like they're running."

"Running from what?" Kurt asked. He hated this! Why had he looked into the eyes of that _stupid_ Angel?

"Phillip, Crispin, we need to get a closer look at that," Marco ordered. Kurt heard two soldiers step down and away from their posts. He heard the two run off into the distance.

"A closer look at what?" He demanded. "What are you all looking at? What's there?"

The Doctor began to talk, blabbering quickly. "Cracks in time, time running out... No, couldn't be. How is a duck pond a duck pond if there aren't any ducks? And he didn't recognise the Daleks! OK, time can shift. Time can change. Time can be rewritten. Ah! Oh!" Realisation dawned upon his face.

Marco explained to Kurt, "It's like, I don't know, a curtain of energy. Makes you feel weird…sick."

"And you think it scared the Angels?"

"What could scare those things?" The other Cleric asked.

Kurt turned, nervous.

"What are you doing?" Marco asked.

"Point me at the light," Kurt ordered.

"You can't open your eyes," Marco argued.

"Not for more than a second, that's what the Doctor said. Still got a bit of countdown left," Kurt reasoned.

"Sir, you can't!"

"I need to see it!" Kurt yelled. "Am I looking the right way? I need to be quick," he said, calmer.

He felt Marco's hands on his shoulders, pointing him towards the light. "Very quick," he warned.

"Agreed," Kurt nodded, opening his eyes. "It's the same shape! It's the crack in my wall!"

"Close your eyes!"

"It's following me! How can it be following me?" Kurt fell, knees weak. Marco caught him, putting a hand over his eyes, forcing them closed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

"Yeah," he whispered. "It was the same shape."

"Marco, do you want me to get a closer look at that?" Asked the second soldier.

"Go for it. Don't get too close," Marco warned.

"Hang on, what about the other two? Why not wait until they get back?"

"What other two?"

"The ones you sent before," Kurt said slowly.

"I didn't send anyone before," Marco said, frowning.

"Yes you did! I heard you! Crispin and Phillip!" He insisted.

"Crispin and who?"

"Doctor Song!" Octavian said, "get through, now!" He directed her into the hatch. "Doctor." The Doctor ignored him, doing calculations in the air. "Doctor!"

"Time can be unwritten…"

"Kurt, there never was a Crispin or a Phillip on this mission, I promise you."

"No, I heard you," Kurt protested. "Before you sent Pedro, you sent Crispin and Phillip, and now you can't even remember them. Something happened. I don't know what, and you don't even remember!"

"Pedro?"

"Before you sent Pedro, yeah." Kurt nodded, a sudden sinking feeling in his heart.

"Who's Pedro?"

"It's been happening all around me and I haven't even noticed!" The Doctor said, striding away from the hatch.

"Doctor, we have to move," Octavian warned.

"The CyberKing! A giant cyberman walks over all of Victorian London and no-one remembers!"

Octavian walked up behind the Doctor, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We have to move it! The Angels could be here any second!"

The Doctor shrugged off the hand. "Never mind the Angels. There's worse here than Angels!"

Suddenly, the lights flickered out. The Doctor turned, hearing a slight noise, and saw an Angel, the strong stone arm wrapped tightly around Octavian's neck.

"I beg to differ, sir."


End file.
